<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Out of the Warzones and Into the Crime Scenes by bexgempisces</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28803840">Out of the Warzones and Into the Crime Scenes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexgempisces/pseuds/bexgempisces'>bexgempisces</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ADD/ADHD Skye | Daisy Johnson, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Autistic Jemma Simmons, Autistic Leo Fitz, BAMF Bobbi Morse, BAMF Skye | Daisy Johnson, Crime Scenes, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kora is only in this because she died, Minor Character Death, Multi, Neurodiversity, Parent Phil Coulson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bobbi Morse, Protective Melinda May, Rape Aftermath, Skye | Daisy Johnson Needs a Hug, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Torture, Very Sorry About That, and then soft, bobbi and hunter and daisy were in the army, cassie the dog is my fave character, daisy and her abandonment issues is the actual biggest ship in this, he’s just team dad, im gonna just add tags as we go lol sorry, i’m sorry so very sorry, lots of takeout, she’s team mom, stop getting kidnapped daisy, there’s a lot of past trauma in this and i don’t even know why, there’s tension between bobbi and daisy because there’s both afraid, theyre a csi team!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:54:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,846</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28803840</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexgempisces/pseuds/bexgempisces</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight years ago, Bobbi, Hunter and Daisy served in the same division. Four years later a mission went wrong and Bobbi and Hunter left without saying goodbye. </p><p>Somehow, four years and eight months after they left, Daisy Johnson shows up as the newest recruit to the CSI team. </p><p>All three of them are scarred from the wars, Daisy and Bobbi especially. But they have a second chance now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie &amp; Skye | Daisy Johnson, Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie/Yo Yo Rodriguez, Bobbi Morse &amp; Jemma Simmons, Bobbi Morse/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons &amp; Skye | Daisy Johnson, Kara Lynn Palamas &amp; Skye | Daisy Johnson, Lance Hunter &amp; Bobbi Morse, Lance Hunter &amp; Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Phil Coulson/Melinda May, Victoria Hand/Isabelle Hartley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>273</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Roll Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey! i’m back! </p><p>this appeared from the deep dark crevices of my brain and it’s so random that i don’t know if anyone would be into it? idk i’m into a lot of criminal minds and csi </p><p>this first chapter is really rather long and i honesty couldn’t tell you why it just is </p><p>also i’m scottish and i know jack about the american army so anything in here is either googled, or completely from my own brain so it might be wildly inaccurate and if it is i’m very sorry </p><p>i’m also incapable of writing daisy johnson without trauma so bbg is a walking angst train in this lol i’m sorry </p><p>oh and kora makes an appearance in a flashback but doesn’t actually feature in this story (you’ll find out why in this chapter and i’d like to apologise)</p><p>also bobbi and daisy are kinda slow burn but also not slow burn idk they’ve got lots of issues :) </p><p>WARNINGS: ptsd, war, prisoner of war, post kidnapping, soldiers, scars, injuries</p><p>enjoy! -bex xx</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Holy fucking shit.” Bobbi gasped when she caught sight of the new member of the team walking into Coulson’s office. “Hunter look!” </p><p>“No way, is that Johnson?” His jaw was practically on the floor. They were so sure she was dead or still in the forces. But now she was standing there, same old band tshirts that used to be reserved for downtime, worn boots that somehow passed inspection, same “fuck off or I’ll kick your ass” vibes. </p><p>“What the hell is she doing here? Last I heard she was still in Kuwait.” Bobbi said. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to see Daisy, in fact she was over the moon that the girl was still alive, but they hadn’t exactly left each other on the best foot. </p><p>“It’s been four years since Kuwait, Bob. Maybe she did what we did?” He suggested. </p><p>“That girl was never leaving on her own, she was too attached to the routine.” Bobbi sighed. </p><p>“Something must have happened then, look at the scars.” </p><p>“We’ve all got scars Hunter.” Bobbi pointed out. Hazard of the job really, especially the missions they went on. </p><p>“Yeah but look at hers Bobbi. Signs of torture, struggle, burns. She was near a bomb. And that’s only the ones we can see.” He pointed out, Daisy disappeared into Coulson’s office before they could get a closer look. Bobbi sighed and turned back to the paperwork she was filling out. </p><p>So, Daisy Johnson was back on the scene. </p><p>Great. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>“So, tell me Agent Johnson, what made you go into forensics?” Phil Coulson asked the girl in front of him. </p><p>She was an enigma and he was starting to get flashbacks to when Morse and Hunter joined his team. Redacted files, shady past, even the same straight back posture he guessed you never lost. </p><p>To be fair, she hasn’t even been out of the army that long. As far as he’s been told, she had a mission go wrong in some Middle Eastern country and had to recover in a facility in Belgium, where she then chose to be disavowed with honours and take up crime scene forensics and criminology. </p><p>“I joined the army because I wanted to help people. I still want to do that, get justice for people that have been murdered.” Her smile is easy but her eyes betray her past. She’s seen too much too soon.</p><p>“Most of your files are redacted.” </p><p>“Most mission reports are classified for civilian eyes.” Her fingernails are bitten down, knuckles are bruised. A nervous habit and a coping mechanism he's presuming. Morse, Hunter and May could be found in the gym at all hours sometimes.</p><p>“Your special skills include hacking, combat, obviously, pattern analysis, weapon expert, the list goes on. Do a lot of hacking in the army?” Her smile actually looks real this time.</p><p>”You’d be surprised. Even terrorists are traceable online, Antifa, Al-Ashtabula, even found a Neo-Nazi group called HYDRA through an online server.” </p><p>“Well, we don’t get a lot of terrorists this side of the equator, plenty of murderers though.” Someone walks past the window of his office and he watches her track their every movement. </p><p>“I’ll be right at home then. So, what can you tell me about the team?” He slides her a file with a brief history on the team. </p><p>“There’s me, team leader.” She nods and goes to the next page. “Melinda May, much like you, she had a mission go FUBAR in Bahrain, left the forces and transferred to the CIA for a while before coming here.” </p><p>“Nothing good happens in Bahrain.” She says, something dark flashing past her eyes. She shakes her head and mumbles something he can’t quite make out. It doesn’t even sound English, maybe Mandarin or Korean? She flips to the next page.</p><p>“That’s Alphonso Mackenzie, we call him Mack. He was NYPD before this, working homicide there. That’s Elena Rodriguez, his partner. She transferred to the States from the PD in Colombia, worked her way through the ranks and now she’s here.” </p><p>“They seem like fun.” Johnson comments. </p><p>“They are. And then there’s our science dream team, they’re about your age. Jemma Simmons doubles as our mortician and biochem expert. Leopold Fitz, he prefers Fitz, engineering specialist and weaponry identification. Top of their classes and fields but they couldn’t pass the field exam, so they mainly work in the labs.” She nods and looks back at the photos and the file, smirking at the red “FAIL” on the field certification. </p><p>“See that doesn’t fly in the forces. You either get in the field or you get back home. Or you get killed.” He winces at that. </p><p>“And last we have-“ </p><p>“Barbara Morse and Lance Hunter.” She says, shock and recognition dancing in her eyes before it’s reigned back in. </p><p>“You know them?” He knew all three of them were in the army but he wouldn’t have imagined they knew each other. </p><p>“They were in my division for a few years.” She explains, pulling out a picture from her wallet and handing it to him. It’s been folded a lot over the years, probably to fit in pockets or books or whatever. </p><p>The date on the back tells him the picture is seven years old. A younger Morse, Hunter and Johnson smile back at him, looking lighter than all three of them did nowadays. They were clearly on downtime, standing on some beach. Hunter’s wearing a cowboy hat, Bobbi a Star Wars shirt. They look like kids. </p><p>“How long did you serve?” He asks, handing the photo back. There’s others in her wallet, he catches a glimpse of a photo of a family, one of a group of people in camouflage, one of a dog, and one of two sisters, one of which must be Johnson. She snaps the wallet closed and shoves it back in her pocket. </p><p>“With Morse and Hunter or all together?” She asks. </p><p>“Both.” </p><p>“Overall I did eight years, four of those eight with Bobbi and Hunter.” He frowns. </p><p>“Eight years...you’re only twenty-three.”</p><p>“I was shoved in military school at fourteen, enlisted at fifteen and told them I was sixteen. I didn’t have a legal birth certificate so they didn’t really care. Went straight from training to active duty. Spent my seventeenth being gunned down in Taiwan, we spent a year there. Six months in Bahrain, we hopped around for a while after that. Kuwait for a year, couple of countries after that for a couple of months. And then we went to Iraq.” She picks at her nails whilst she tells him, looking anywhere but his eyes. He can pick up about ten visual cues that there’s a void of emotions in there that she probably hasn’t fully dealt with. Guilt, fear, happiness, shame, anxiety. It all just swirls around in her eyes. </p><p>“You left the forces after Iraq?” </p><p>“No, I left after Belgium. I was kidnapped and held as a prisoner for two years in Iraq. They blew up the compound in the end, apparently I’m a walking miracle because I survived. They were treating me in Belgium after that and I told them I couldn’t go back. After everything, they understood. They disavowed me with honours and I took the course for this job.” Her fingers trace the scars on her left arm, burn scars, he recognises. He wants to reach out, even though he barely knows her. But he doesn’t think it would be appreciated.</p><p>”Quite the life you’ve led, Agent Johnson. Your parents must be proud.” She outright laughs at that and he looks at her in confusion. </p><p>“Sorry, sir. Perhaps you missed the part where I said “no legal birth certificate”. My sister and I were smuggled in from China by our mother and father. He went nuts when I was four and my sister was ten, he killed twelve people over the course of a year and was gunned down by a SWAT team. My mom went off the deep end and dropped me and my sister at an orphanage in New York, fled back to China. Last I heard she got involved in a cult and is serving time in a Chinese high security prison for biological terrorism.” His jaw physically drops at that because how was this girl even functional right now? That was enough emotional trauma to scar someone completely and that was before she even turned thirteen or joined the forces. </p><p>“I’m so sorry.” He managed eventually, she waved him off with a smile. </p><p>“Nah, it’s fine. They were assholes anyway.” </p><p>“And your sister?” Her face goes cloudy and he knows he hit a nerve. He goes to apologise but she waved him off again.</p><p>”Kora’s no longer with us.” He nods and she shakes her head to release whatever thoughts had built there. “So, I’ll go meet the team?” </p><p>“That would be great. I’ll let you know when a case comes in. You can tag team with Morse and Hunter, Mack and Elena or me and May.” </p><p>“Great. Thanks sir.” </p><p>“Relax with the “sir”, you’re not in the army anymore. Call me Coulson.” She grins and shakes his hand before standing, bag in hand to head to the locker room. </p><p>“Only if you call me Daisy. Like you said, we’re not in the army anymore.” </p><p>“Daisy, then. Welcome to the team.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Daisy has never liked first days. She’s been through a lot of them, first day at the orphanage, first day of school (she’s done that one at least six times over), first day of training, first day in a warzone, first day being kidnapped, first day in the real world again. </p><p>And no matter where she goes, it’s always the same. The same stares, same questions, same fake smiles behind her answers. It’s exhausting and she just wants it over, go back to her apartment and her German Shepard, Cassie (full name being Cassiopeia, but not everyone needs to know about her astrology phase) and curl up under the sheets after going a run. </p><p>She’s been out of the army for nearly eight months now and yet she hasn’t quite adjusted to normality yet. She still spreads her bed like they did for inspection until she remembers and messes it up again, she still leaves her clothes and boots at the end of her bed like she’s waiting for roll call every morning, she still feels the ropes on her wrists that cut into the flesh for two years and- </p><p>Daisy blinks viciously and taps her leg three times to get rid of the images that flash through her mind. She whispers the mantra her therapist told her to develop to herself. </p><p>
  <em>“Nǐ hěn ānquán. Méiyǒu shé me kěyǐ pèng dào nǐ. Nǐ bùzài nàlǐ. Nǐ hěn ānquán.” (You are safe. Nothing can touch you here. You are not there. You are safe.) </em>
</p><p>”Uh, hey. You’re the new hire right?” A distinctly Scottish accent interrupts her as she whips around in the locker room. A curly haired guy stands in the doorway, a woman at his side. They look about her age, maybe a little older. Bright eyes and unscarred faces, they haven’t seen horrors like she had from anywhere apart from the cases they work.</p><p>“Daisy Johnson.” She introduces herself, walking to the door and out stretching a hand. The guy, Leopold Fits (call him Fitz), her brain supplied. “You must be Fitz.” </p><p>“Oh let the girl breathe would you Fitz.” The woman elbows him out of the way. “I’m Jemma Simmons.” </p><p>“I know. I read the file earlier.” Daisy shakes her hand and steps back to her new locker, placing her spare change of clothes and brand new issue bulletproof vest on the shelves. </p><p>“You were in the army before this right? Like Bobbi and Hunter?” Simmons continues, and Daisy catches the English accent. She rolls her eyes at their names, their history was clearly going to haunt her here. </p><p>Look, she’s not mad they left, but they could have told her. She came back from telling Trip’s family he was killed in action, thinking that they’d be waiting with Lincoln and Kara in the bunks and instead she’d come back to empty beds and Lincoln and Kara looking at her apologetically. It sucked but they got through it. </p><p>“Yup. Got out around eight months ago. So, what can you tell me about the rest of the team?” Anything to get the attention off her. </p><p>“Oh we can take you to meet them now whilst we’re between cases. They’re in the break room right now.” Simmons tells her cheerfully and Daisy gives her a grateful smile. </p><p>“Sounds great.” </p><p>The three of them left the locker room and headed down the hallway to the break room. The people she recognised from the file sat around a table, eating what looked like Chinese takeout. Her stomach filled with butterflies when she locked eyes with Bobbi, but she pushed the feelings away and moved to sit and introduce herself. </p><p>“Daisy Johnson.” She told the table, grabbing the coffee pot. She received an impassive look from May, a wide grin from Mack and Elena, an eyebrow raise from Hunter and a gentle smile from Bobbi. </p><p>“Thought you were kicking caffeine.” Hunter said, she flipped him off, remembering the single sachets of shitty coffee they practically had to ration when they were on mission. </p><p>“And I thought you weren’t gonna listen to the Beatles anymore.” She nods at his Penny Lane shirt. “Guess we were both lying.” </p><p>“Good to see you again, Johnson.” He says in return, she shrugs. </p><p>“You know what they say about divisions. Once you fight together, you stay connected.” Daisy says, eyes locked to the table. Bobbi and Hunter both know what she means by that. </p><p>“I have a very important question.” Mack says, she raised an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“Shoot.” </p><p>“Favourite type of takeout.” He says very seriously and Daisy’s eyebrow raises further. “This is a make or break situation here Johnson.” </p><p>“Thai, but Chinese is a close second. I’ll go Mexican if there’s nothing else, and I’ll eat Indian but it gives me really bad IBS.” Her answer seems satisfactory. </p><p>“‘Really bad IBS’ is an understatement Johnson, if we remember that time we got takeout in California.” Bobbi piped up and Daisy finally looked at her. </p><p>“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again.” Goddamn butterflies were doing fucking loops in her stomach because of those blue eyes. </p><p>“I remember no such agreement.” Bobbi’s eyes twinkled like they used to when they agreed to prank the boys or when they broke the speed limits on borrowed motorbikes. </p><p>“I will tell them about the rope course incident.” Daisy threatened, Bobbi’s eyes widened and Hunter laughed. </p><p>“You wouldn’t dare.” </p><p>“Oh, I would.” Against her better judgement, Daisy found herself settling back into their old rhythm. A little voice in her head reminded her of empty bunks and people becoming memories in pictures and a missing blonde by her side in the car, but she ignored it because Bobbi and Hunter were here. Not dead or MIA or leaving, they were sitting across a table, drinking coffee, teasing like they used to. </p><p>“Sorry to break up the reunion but we got new cases.” Coulson told them from the doorway. “Mack and Elena, you’ve got a murder in a casino. May, we’ve been called to a triple homicide in a college and Bobbi, Hunter and Johnson, you’ve got a gas station bombing and possibly related shooting a couple blocks up from the bomb site. Get to work, people.” </p><p>“Sir, yes, sir.” Daisy said on reflex, blushing slightly at the laughs she received. </p><p>“You lose that eventually.” Hunter told her. “Cmon, I’m driving.” </p><p>“Are you fuck. Last time you drove me, I nearly went through the windshield.” Daisy said. Bobbi rolled her eyes. </p><p>“Need I remind you we were speeding away from shooters in Kuwait?” Hunter defended. </p><p>“Hush, children. I’ll drive.” Bobbi said eventually. “Don’t say it-“ </p><p>“Shotgun!” Daisy and Hunter called together. The little voice in Daisy’s head might be screaming, but Daisy wasn’t listening. She had a second chance here. She could belong to something more here. She could be something other than a soldier here. </p><p>“I’m going to kill you both.” Bobbi sighed. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Shell Shock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The first case.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay so yeah, there’s gonna be flashbacks in this fic, normally at the start of the chapters, but that might change </p><p>also thank you for the positive feedback so far! it means a lot that people are enjoying this! </p><p>WARNINGS: talking about bombs, injuries, war, ptsd, anxiety, brief mentions of daisy’s time in iraq </p><p>also hunter and daisy have a massive talk at the end of this and it just makes me very happy </p><p>enjoy! -bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>May 6th, 2013</strong>
</p><p>“How are you even alive at this point, this is like the fifth bullet I’ve pulled out of you since I met you.” Bobbi complained as she dug around for the offending metal in Daisy’s arm. At least that AP Bio class was coming in handy </p><p>“It’s not like I’m asking for them to shoot me, it just happens.” Daisy winces slightly as the tweezers dig a little further. She grips the metal of the truck floor with her other hand. </p><p>“Yeah well, I’m getting a little sick of digging bullets out of you. Especially in this heat.” She wasn’t wrong, the sweltering heat of Bahrain was almost overwhelming. They’d been here for nearly six months, and it just seemed to be getting hotter. </p><p>“At least you look good in a tank top and shorts.” Daisy grinned at Bobbi’s eye roll. Bobbi finally found the bullet and Daisy flinched as it slid out from under her skin. “That hurt.” </p><p>“And getting shot didn’t?” </p><p>“Not really. We were a bit busy running away and shooting them back, I hardly even noticed it happened.” Daisy admitted. </p><p>“One of these days I’d like a quiet Saturday morning, where we don’t nearly die of heatstroke and you don’t get shot and we’re not taking cover in the truck until evac gets here.” Bobbi complains, wrapping the white gauze around Daisy’s arm until one of the medics can look at it when Trip and Hunter turn up. Their truck ran out of gas after speeding ten miles away with two blown tires.</p><p>“What would you do if we had a Saturday like that?” Daisy extended her hand once her wound was wrapped to help Bobbi jump into the truck. Bobbi took the offered hand and sat next to Daisy, their legs dangling from the dead truck in the warm air. </p><p>“Depends where we were. If we were back home then I’d go a run in the park, make pancakes, go to a concert, shit like that. Go on a date with a cute girl.” Bobbi bumped her shoulder, Daisy blushed a little. </p><p>“That’s kinda gay. Wouldn’t want the CO to hear you talk like that.” </p><p>“General Fredericks can kiss my ass, I don’t care about the homophobic “fraternisation” rules when all the straight couples are overlooked.” Bobbi ranted, but then she caught Daisy’s grin. “What?” </p><p>“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Daisy told her, kissing Bobbi on the nose. “I like it.” </p><p>“I like you.” Bobbi said in turn, Daisy blushed harder. </p><p>“Oi lovebirds! Your saviours are here!” Hunter shouted from the truck that had just rolled up that neither of them had noticed. Both women rolled their eyes and Daisy jumped down the truck. </p><p>“We had it all under control.” She said, fist bumping Trip as she walked up to the truck. </p><p>“You got shot, idiot.” Bobbi called from behind. </p><p>“Like I said, it was under control.” Daisy laughed. “And at least we have more evidence that the terrorists are working in this area.” </p><p>“Whatever you say, Rockstar.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>Bobbi pulled into the crime scene, the three of them flashing their badges to the police working the scene. </p><p>“What are we looking at?” Hunter asked the chief officer at the scene. </p><p>“Witnesses reported that they saw a male in a black cap go into the gas station around 9:45, came back out ten minutes later and the place blew five minutes after that.” The officer told them, Daisy nodded and headed off to inspect the remnants of the building. </p><p>“And the shooting up the street?” Hunter continued. </p><p>“Same guy in the black cap, witnesses say he was nervous when he walked up the street, bumping into people and stuff, someone knocked him over and he shot her, then bolted.” </p><p>“No one catch a face?” Bobbi asked, the officer shook his head. </p><p>“Kept his cap down according to witnesses.” The officer says and Bobbi and Hunter thank him, heading after Daisy. </p><p>“Got anything?” Hunter asks. </p><p>“Bomb was homemade, encased in a pipe. The shell is over there.” Daisy pointed to shrapnel in the wreckage. “Guy came in, dropped the bomb and hit the detonator when he walked down the street.”</p><p>“Did you swab for prints?” Bobbi asked, Daisy nodded. </p><p>“Got a partial, the explosion wiped away a lot of the evidence. I just don’t get why. It’s a gas station, why blow the place up?” </p><p>“Why did we fight in Taiwan or Bahrain or Kuwait? It’s all about control. Whoever this guy he is, he’s desperate for control.” Hunter says. </p><p>“This isn’t a terrorist.” Daisy says, anxiety rising in her chest. She hates bombs, the smell of sulfur in the air and hot metal beneath her fingertips send her mind right back to the Middle East. “Should we go look at the scene up the street?” She wants out of here and she wants out of here now. They’ve got their evidence, they can leave. </p><p>“I don’t think the shooting was planned. He panicked and shot the victim.” Bobbi says, but she can see Daisy’s anxious eyes, no matter how good she’s got at masking. “Let’s go. Hunter, you stay and see if we missed anything.” </p><p>“Aye aye, captain.” He grins and she shoves him. Daisy grabs her kit and practically bolts from the bomb site. </p><p>“You good?” Bobbi asks once they’ve started up the street. Daisy shrugs. </p><p>“Would you care?” Bobbi looks at her with hurt in her eyes but Daisy stares straight ahead at the cordoned off area. </p><p>“Of course I would. You’re on the team now, we look out for each other. And I know that we left but I still care about you-“ </p><p>“Don’t do that, Bobbi. It’s been too long and too much has happened. Can we focus on the case and do this later?” Daisy cut her off, her voice practically monotone. Bobbi nodded and they continued down the street. </p><p>“I’m sorry-“ </p><p>“Later.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Two long days filled with overtime and coffee, their case was solved. Their partial print didn’t pop up in CODIS, but they found a serial number on the pipe used for the bomb, which led them to one Rick Lewis, who had been laid off from the gas station and was going to lose his house, so planted the bomb out of anger. </p><p>“Hey Dais?” Hunter had gone back to the old nicknames he used to use for her. Daisy smiled when she looked up from the paperwork she was filling out after the case. </p><p>“What’s up?” </p><p>“I wanted to talk to you about Kuwait.” Her stomach drops. It’s been what, a week? A week and a lot of her defence mechanisms are already breaking down just because of the stupid blonde that stole her heart and the Englishman that was her best friend once upon a time. </p><p>“You couldn’t have waited until I’d been here at least a month?” She sighs, he smiles apologetically. </p><p>“There’s no point letting the past mess us up more than it already does. I brought dinner?” He holds up a white bag and she nods for him to come in to the break room she’s taken over for the night. She closes the case report she was writing and pats the table she’s sitting on. “I see you’re still allergic to chairs.” </p><p>“Ugh, you know me so well Lancelot. What did you bring me for this fun talk we’re about to have?” He sets the bag between them whilst he slides up on the table. </p><p>“Noodles, orange chicken and fried wontons.” He pulls the containers out of the bag and hands them to her like they’re a bomb, which is kind of ironic. </p><p>“You still know my favourites.” She comments, punching him in the arm and taking the proffered food. He rolls his eyes. </p><p>“Like I’d forget. Now, Kuwait.” She exhales heavily and grips the container of noodles and chicken so her hands don’t shake. </p><p>“What about it?” The natural fire is gone from her voice and she just sounds tired. She probably is, working overtime for this case. Just get this conversation over, then she can go home. Cassie needs a walk anyway. </p><p>“We didn’t want to leave you, yknow.” She looks at him when he says that. His eyes hold truth, she studies the colours like she’s profiling a suspect, looking for the lie. </p><p>“I know that. But you could have at least told me. We’d just lost Trip, and I came back and you were...you were gone and I still needed you. Makes me sound horribly needy but it’s true Hunter.” His hand comes to cover hers but she flinches away. Left arm, too many scars and memories. He nods when she does, and backs off. </p><p>“They transferred us back to the States before Bobbi was even awake. We asked them to send you a letter or something but the division was posted to Sudan and gone dark, we couldn’t make contact. I’m sorry Zee, we never wanted to leave until Bobbi got hurt.” They both wince at the memory of Daisy dragging Bobbi out of that building in Kuwait, Hunter limping beside them and Trip dead at their feet. </p><p>“I know. It just sucked majorly. Four years, Hunter. Four years I thought you left because of me or you were dead and two of those were spent in a fucking basement in Iraq.” She shakes her head and repeats her mantra in her head before the memories can catch up. </p><p>“We didn’t, I promise. It was time for us to get out, we needed to get out before one of us went off the deep end. I promise Daisy, it wasn’t your fault.” She nods and he grins again, stealing a wonton from her container. She punches him in the arm again. </p><p>“Thanks. For all of this.” And she means it, it helps knowing all that now. </p><p>“Anytime. You gonna talk to Bobbi?” She looks away. </p><p>“At some point. It’s...different, with me and her.” He rolls his eyes again, those two were as bad as the ever were. </p><p>“Useless lesbians.” Hunter grins when she feigns shock. </p><p>“Bobbi’s bi, unless you’re forgetting your relationship with her.” </p><p>“Like I could forget.” </p><p>“You disgust me.” </p><p>“Oh, speaking of useless lesbians and hopeless straights, you still speak to Lincoln and Kara?” She nods and pulls her wallet out, showing him the photo from before Iraq. </p><p>“We meet up every couple of months, Kara lives with her girlfriend in Phoenix, Lincoln went back to Cincinnati.” He thumbs through the photos. </p><p>“Were they with you in the basement?” </p><p>“No.” She’s not going into this today (or any day, preferably, much to the annoyance of her therapist), but he accepts her answer. </p><p>“Of course you got a dog.” He holds up the picture of Cassie, she smiles widely, even though the photo of Kora lies behind it and he was about to flip to it. </p><p>“That’s Cassie and if anything happened to her I would kill everyone and then myself.” </p><p>“Ever the drama queen.” He says fondly, flipping straight past the pictures of Kora and her parents, he was there for that moment, he doesn’t need to rehash the memories. </p><p>“Still talk to Hartley and Idaho and Hand?” She asks him, the three of them making up the rest of their division, but Daisy got split from them after Kuwait. </p><p>“Hartley and Hand finally got engaged about a year ago, Idaho went into the NYPD, we should arrange a reunion.” He hands back the wallet. </p><p>“We should. Now, I thank you for dinner but I’ve got a very impatient dog waiting for me at home, so I’d better go.” </p><p>“Been a pleasure, kid.” She rolls her eyes fondly at the nickname. </p><p>“I’m only five years younger than you.” </p><p>“Practically a baby.” He insists. </p><p>“Whatever. See you tomorrow.” </p><p>“Bye, Zee. And talk to Bob soon, yeah?” </p><p>“Goodbye Hunter.” </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Graveyard Shift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Daisy, Jemma and Fitz work the night shift.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i do love my neurodiverse bus kids and as she is in practically all my fics, Daisy has ADHD and Fitz and Jemma are autistic </p><p>i’m not the biggest fan of this chapter, idk something about it, but oh well, hope yall like it </p><p>flashback is kinda long too lmfao sorry </p><p>WARNINGS: mention of death, grief, loss, mention of a car crash, tiny bit of ableism in the army with daisy later on in the chapter </p><p>also i really need to stop putting the stars in every fic i write but also no❤️</p><p>enjoy! -bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>September 27th, 2012</strong>
</p><p>War changes people, Bobbi has come to realise. She enlisted at eighteen and she’s nearly twenty-one now, but she knows she’s different. </p><p>She had a normal childhood, the suburban life with two parents and a pool. She was captain of the soccer team, had a full ride to Georgetown if she wanted it, valedictorian. </p><p>And then she met Lance Hunter in a bar on her eighteenth birthday. And somehow, that goddamn English accent managed to convince her to enlist with him, and then she met Hartley and Idaho and Hand, and then they were given a new division and shipped off to Taiwan and suddenly her world was camouflage and sniper rifles and drunken flirting with Daisy whenever they had the time. </p><p>She would like to say that she has no regrets of going to fight rather than going to Georgetown and becoming...who knows what. But that would be a bit of a lie. </p><p>Days like today she regrets it. Nights like now, where she lies awake in her bed, trying to come to terms with the news that was delivered via sat phone earlier. </p><p>
  <em>“We’re sorry, Barbara, but your parents...they’re gone.” </em>
</p><p>A goddamn car crash. She was fighting fucking <em>terrorists </em>but her parents were taken by a drunk driver and a slippery road. Her aunt tried to comfort her over the phone but she was so numb that she forgot to tell her not to call her “Barbara”. </p><p>“Morse. Hey, Morse!” A voice calls to her in her haze. </p><p>“Fuck off, Johnson.” She mumbled, turning away to face the other wall, but the sound of Kara’s breathing annoyed her. Palamas slept like the dead. </p><p>“This won’t help, Bobbi. Come on.” Daisy tears away the sheet and Bobbi jerks up, eyes narrowed. Daisy flinches back and places the sheet back. “Please?” </p><p>“I hate you sometimes.” Bobbi grumbled but she got out of bed and slid on her boots. Daisy grinned and grabbed her backpack from under her bed, both women silently leaving the bunk. </p><p>They made it outside and Daisy led them to the ladder that led onto the roof of the bunk. She climbed up and Bobbi followed, sitting next to Daisy when she got up. </p><p>“Why are we up here, Dee?” Bobbi asked tiredly, scrubbing a hand down her face. She hadn’t cried yet, it was too raw for her to cry. She wouldn’t even be able to make it back for the funeral, she was lucky they could even tell her they were dead. </p><p>“You needed a distraction tonight.” Daisy pulls out two Cactus Coolers from her backpack and an Ipod with earphones. “I have distractions.” </p><p>“You can only get these in California.” Bobbi says, taking one of the proferred cans, the tab cracking in the otherwise silent night. </p><p>“I have my ways.” Daisy winked, Bobbi rolled her eyes. </p><p>“And the Ipod? Are you planning to distract me from the sudden death of my parents with Fall Out Boy?” She took the other earphone anyway, All Time Low pounding in her ear. “Your music taste is shit.” </p><p>“Coming from a girl who listens to exclusively Fleetwood Mac.” </p><p>“I don’t think you brought me up to talk about music taste.” Bobbi says, Daisy shakes her head. </p><p>“Uh, when my dad died, Kora took me up to the roof of our apartment building. He used to take us up to see the stars all the time, at least before he started killing people. We took his Walkman up and listened to his favourite music and we watched the stars. It’s dumb but it helped.” Daisy explains and Bobbi softens. Daisy doesn’t open up about her childhood, but considering her dad was a serial killer, Bobbi’s not surprised. </p><p>“It’s sweet.” Bobbi tells her, Daisy shrugs. Bobbi nudges her. “You wanna tell me about the stars?” </p><p>“You’re sure?” </p><p>“Course. Go on, dorogaya.” Bobbi leans back on the roof and Daisy giggles softly at the nickname, her hands locked together to stop from fidgeting. </p><p>“I like when you go all Russian on me.” </p><p>“Stars are up there, now tell me.” Bobbi kicks her lightly and Daisy giggled again, but begins telling Bobbi about the stars above them anyway. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>“You off for the night?” Jemma asked as she entered the locker room, just starting her shift. Bobbi smiled and checked that everything was secure in her locker. </p><p>“I can’t believe you took an entire week of night shifts.” Bobbi says, Jemma shrugs. </p><p>“I like working the night shift. It’s quieter, not as much noise. And they dim the lights at night.” Jemma explains, Bobbi nods in understanding. </p><p>“Have a good night, Jem.” She says, closing her locker softly, knowing Jemma hated the slam. Jemma waved appreciatively. </p><p>Bobbi got to her car just as Daisy pulled up in her own. Of course Daisy drove a Jeep. Bobbi could hear Nirvana flowing out the speakers, as Daisy opened her car door. Some things never changed. </p><p>“Hey Bobbi?” Daisy called to her, a little hesitantly. They hadn’t talked yet, even though it had been over a month since Daisy started. </p><p>“Yeah, Zee?” Daisy went round to the passenger door and opened it, pulling a bag out of the car and handing it to Bobbi. </p><p>Cactus Coolers and a Fall Out Boy CD. Bobbi grinned as she took them out the bag. </p><p>“You remembered.” She comments, Daisy ducks her head. </p><p>“I always remembered. Be careful driving home yeah?” It’s a peace offering, Bobbi realises. Daisy’s not ready to talk yet, but she wants to put aside the awkwardness. Bobbi can work with that. </p><p>“Thanks.” Bobbi says quietly, Daisy nods. She goes to the backseat of her car and grabs her backpack and laptop. “Have a good shift. Don’t stay up too late.” </p><p>“When have you ever known me to sleep regularly?” Daisy laughs, and Bobbi shakes her head. That would be never. “Go on, go home.” </p><p>“See you later, Dee.” Daisy walks into the building and Bobbi drives home with the memories of a roof in Taiwan and a phone call that threatened to break her and the taste of orange soda from California and a girl who told her about the stars. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>“I hate the graveyard shift.” Fitz complains for the fourth time that night and Daisy is about to slap him. </p><p>“You’ve said.” She says shortly. She should have just worked in the smaller break room but no, she decided to be social. “But if you hate it that much, why did you agree to work it?” </p><p>“Jemma likes working the night shift and I don’t like leaving her alone.” He admits with a blush and Daisy softens. </p><p>“You two got history?” </p><p>“We met on the plane coming over to the States. We realised we were going to the same university, different subjects though, and became friends. She’s been my best friend since we were sixteen.” He tells her. She nudges his shoulder and winks. </p><p>“You like her.” He shakes his head immediately, blushing furiously. Daisy grins. </p><p>“I wouldn’t do anything to disrupt our friendship. Neither of us like change.” She gets that, she supposed, but her life has always been full of change. She’s never lived anywhere for longer than two years, never set down roots, never been able to stop moving. Change makes her comfortable, when things stay the same for too long, she gets antsy, waiting for the world to drop away again. </p><p>“That’s fair.” She says, he shakes his head again and gets up to go to the coffee pot. </p><p>“You want some?” She shakes her head, holding up her Red Bull. </p><p>“I’m all good.” </p><p>“You know how bad for you those are? I mean the sugar content alone could probably kill you, but the acid? That will wreak havoc on you liver, and the <em>additives, </em>god they’ll definitely destroy you-“ </p><p>“Hey Fitz, I survived terrorists, I don’t think Red Bull is going to be enough to kill me.” She cuts him off and he flushes again. She knows he means well. “Sorry.” </p><p>“No, no, it’s fine, I have the tendency to info dump. Part of the neurodiversity.” Ha laughs at that, but she cocks her head, and he frowns. “You know what that is right?” </p><p>“Of course I do. I just didn’t realise you were neurodiverse.” She says. </p><p>“Oh, yeah, I’m autistic. Lots of sensory issues or problems reading emotions. It’s why I avoid the morgue and anything to do with the actual bodies. Simmons is the opposite.” He explains, she nods. </p><p>“Is she autistic too?” Daisy asks and of course Simmons comes into the room right as she says that. </p><p>“Is who autistic?” She asks brightly, lab coat pulled over a cardigan and hair tied back. </p><p>“Daisy was asking if you were, since I told her I was. I said you’re like the opposite to me.” Fitz explains and Jemma grins widely.</p><p>”Oh! Yes, I’m autistic too. My sensory issues are more bright lights and loud sounds like metal or guns and whatnot. I prefer to know all there is about the biological structure of things, whereas Fitz likes to know how things work mechanically.” Jemma moves over to join Fitz, but reaches for the kettle instead of the coffee pot. “Tea?” </p><p>“No thanks.” Daisy says, still trying to process all of that information. </p><p>“What about you?” Fitz asks and Daisy is caught off guard, her hands immediately interlocking to keep from fidgeting, a skill she developed in training. </p><p>“What about me?” </p><p>“Are you neurodiverse too?” Fitz asks like it’s obvious and Daisy lets out a long breath. They weren’t going to judge her if she was, it was okay this time. </p><p>“Uh yeah, I have ADHD.” She says quietly, the scientists brightening when she did. “But do you mind if we keep it quiet?” </p><p>“Of course but why? The team is very understanding when it comes to things like this and I would have thought Bobbi and Hunter would have already known?” Jemma questions and Daisy sighs. </p><p>“They do, but we agreed to not speak of it. In the forces, you have to pretend it just doesn’t exist, or you can’t be a good soldier. Things like fidgeting or evading eye contact or daydreaming are drummed out of you because it’s mission first, self later. I’ve already got enough weird shit in my history for the team to know about, so could we just keep this between us for now?” Simmons softens when Daisy explains her reasoning. </p><p>“Of course we will, Daisy. But you shouldn’t ever be afraid to be who you are. You aren’t in the army anymore.” Daisy smiles slightly because that’s the second time she’s heard that since starting here. It’s just hard to remember sometimes. </p><p>“Thanks.” They both nod, practically in sync. Fitz goes back to his coffee pot and Simmons goes back to her kettle, waiting for both of their drinks to finish. “So, whatcha working on in the morgue, Simmons?” </p><p>“I believe it’s your next case. Three bodies came in with the same stab wounds in the chest area. All of them had stamps from the same club. But the cause of death was a heart attack, not the stabbing.” Fitz grimaces and makes to leave when his coffee is done. Daisy grins as Simmons shakes her head fondly at him. They’ve got it bad and they don’t even know it yet. </p><p>“Sounds like an interesting case.” Daisy comments, draining the rest of her Red Bull and turning back to her report she was filling out from their last case of a robbery gone wrong. </p><p>“You’re one of the few people I’ve seen in here who doesn’t flinch, did you know that?” Jemma says, and Daisy lifts her head back up. </p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“When it’s a bad case or a brutal stabbing or whatever, you don’t flinch. Neither does Bobbi or Hunter or May. It just makes me wonder what you saw out there to make you that way.” Jemma explains and Daisy makes sure to repeat her mantra in her head, fingers unlocking to tap her thigh three times. Home, not there, home, not there. </p><p>“It changes you.” She says eventually. “We see it all out there, and if you have any hope of surviving, you have to become a different person.” </p><p>“That sounds awful.” Jemma says, sipping her tea, Daisy smiles at her. </p><p>“You wouldn’t last a day. You failed the field exam and that gets you sent home in the army before you can get killed.” Jemma waves off her teasing. </p><p>“Well if I was in the army, I couldn’t study bodies and see what killed people.” </p><p>“Technically you could, it would just be one of three options. Bomb, shot, bombed again. Or the occasional throat slicing.” Jemma looks at her incredulously. </p><p>“You have a therapist, right?” Daisy laughs. </p><p>“Of course I do. He hates me with a burning passion.” </p><p>“I like you.” Jemma decides and Daisy smiles widely. </p><p>“I like you too.” And the rest of the night passes with multiple cups of tea and coffee, Jemma hating Daisy’s music, Daisy hating Jemma’s music, snack break with Fitz and by the time morning rolled around, all three of them could say they were firm friends. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Marks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The “tattoo incident”, a brief talk with Hunter and Bobbi about said incident, and a walk with Mack and dogs.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ngl this chapter is mainly about the dogs, Cassie and Terminator (Minnie) are my fave things in existence </p><p>but the flashback is pretty cute too, kara palamas deserved a redemption okay </p><p>this chapter is a bit all over the place i guess, but that’s like every chapter i guess lol </p><p>WARNINGS: brief mention of shootings, bombs and iraq </p><p>enjoy! -bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>July 20th, 2012</strong>
</p><p>
  <span class="s1">“I’m bored.” Kara announced as she walked into the bunk, Vic and Izzy groaning from their card game, Daisy barely even acknowledged her, hands drumming against her skin and music blaring in her ears. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re always bored when we’re not getting shot at.” Lincoln told her, Kara flipped him off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what we could do?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do I want to know?” Bobbi asked, throwing her ping pong ball into Hunter’s cowboy hat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” Kara grinned and went to her bed, unlocking the door of her dresser. She pulled out a box from under her stack of shirts, revealing a tattoo gun and ink. “Tattoos!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re kidding.” Vic said, but Daisy was already ripping the earphones out and bouncing off her bed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, yes, 100% yes, let’s do it.” She rambled, excitement practically rolling off of the just recently seventeen year old. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, alright, my little adrenaline junkie.” Kara laughed, ruffling her hair and snorting at Daisy’s stuck out tongue. “Who else is up for it?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Might as well.” Izzy sighed, Bobbi nodded too. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go for it, Palamas.” Hunter agreed, the other men nodding their agreements. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who’s first?” Kara grinned when they all backed away, expect Daisy. “Should have known it would be Johnson.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll try everything once.” Daisy winked. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Aint that the truth.” Hunter laughed, earning a shove from Bobbi. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, what do you want Daisy Chain?” Kara asked the younger girl, prepping the tattoo gun. Vic coming forward with antiseptic wipes first, claiming “safety first”. To which Kara shot back, “we live in a warzone, if the bombs can’t kill us, neither will a tattoo”. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How good are you with the gun?” Daisy asked first, Kara shrugged. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This will be my third time using it.” This answer evoked a number of reactions, from slight fear with Izzy, Trip and Hunter, exasperation from Lincoln, Bobbi and Vic and a wide grin from Daisy because she was after all, an adrenaline junkie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">“So what can you actually do with it?” Daisy asks, wiping the antiseptic on her shoulder, tugging her tank top strap to the side. </p><p class="p1">“I’m alright at lettering, numbers and I’ve done a pretty good butterfly.” Kara says proudly, Vic sighs from the other side of the room where they’ve started playing cards again. Kara flips her off. </p><p class="p1">“Think you could manage a crescent moon?” Daisy asks and Kara nods. </p><p class="p1">“Easy enough.” Kara at least makes sure she disinfects the needles before starting up the gun, and Daisy barely winces as Kara tattoos her shoulder.</p><p class="p1">The others watch the two youngest in their division with rapt attention. Kara had turned nineteen in April, Daisy turned seventeen around eighteen days ago. Kara’s tongue was stuck between her teeth just like it did when she was sniping or dismantling yet another dirty bomb, as the black ink spread across Daisy’s skin. </p><p class="p1">In the end Daisy ended up with a (slightly) wobbly crescent moon with a star on the point, and her sisters birthday and their division number. </p><p class="p1">(She doesn’t know just how important that tattoo will become in a matter of months.) </p><p class="p1">“Alright,” Kara announces once she finishes, a happy smile spreading across both their faces as Daisy clingfilmed her arm. “Who’s next?” </p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p class="p1">“Oh, I meant to ask,” Daisy piped up from the backseat of their black SUV on the way back from their most recent crime scene, “do you two still have your tattoos?” </p><p class="p1">“You bet.” Hunter pulled up his sleeve to show his Ace of Clubs tattoo on his shoulder. On that summer day in the middle of Taiwan, their division had all ended up with matching tattoos copied from Izzy’s card deck. </p><p class="p1">“Didn’t know if you would have got it removed or something.” Daisy tells them. “Bad memories or whatever.” </p><p class="p1">“The tats are one of the few good memories I have from back then actually.” Bobbi says, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel, her chest burning where she was shot four years ago. </p><p class="p1">“Sorry I brought it up.” Daisy says quietly, fingers drifting her own scars. She knows all about the difference between good marks and bad marks.</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p1">A few days later, Daisy pulls her Jeep into the parking lot of a public park. She hasn’t been to a place like this since she was about six and her and Kora slipped away from the nuns at the orphanage. </p><p class="p1">“Cmon Cassie, let’s go see Mack.” She tells the Shepard who whines softly from the back. Cassie hates the car, always had. She smiled at her dog and got out her door, holding the leash for her harnessed pet. </p><p class="p1">“There’s a good girl.” Cassie sits patiently whilst she clips the lead on and grabs all the dog necessities, finally allowing the dog to escape the confines of the car. </p><p class="p1">Cassie had been well trained before Daisy got her to work well with war veterans. She was adept at reading emotions, could help Daisy out of a panic attack, was overall, a very good therapy pet. She walked beside her owner, careful eyes scanning for anything that could set Daisy off like she had been taught. </p><p class="p1">“Hey Dee! Over here!” Cassie cocks her head at the voice and Daisy grins as she walks over to Mack, standing next to a tree. </p><p class="p1">“Sup.” She greeted him. </p><p class="p1">“So this is Cassie?” He asks as the dog sniffs him then butts his leg. </p><p class="p1">“This is her. And who is this?” Daisy leans down to an absolutely <em>tiny </em>sausage dog at Mack’s feet. The dog was no bigger than Mack’s shoe and Cassie was looking mightily unimpressed. </p><p class="p1">“This is Minnie.” Mack introduced proudly. </p><p class="p1">“As in Mouse?” </p><p class="p1">“As in Terminator.” He corrected and Daisy rolled her eyes fondly. She’d created a good relationship with Mack. He was reliable and trustworthy and Daisy valued those qualities in a friend. </p><p class="p1">“I feel like there’s an irony in our dogs somewhere. Big guy, tiny dog. Big dog, relatively small woman.” Daisy says, scratching Cassie’s ears. </p><p class="p1">“I think Cassie’s a bit unimpressed.” Mack says, Daisy nods. </p><p class="p1">“She’s not used to a lot of other dogs to be honest. There’s not a whole lot where we live.” Daisy admits. “Wanna go get coffee?” </p><p class="p1">“Like you need more caffeine.” Mack laughs, she swats him. “I’m serious! You and Hunter and Morse drink more coffee than anyone else I’ve seen.” </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, it’s the army background. The coffee sucks ass but it keeps us going.” Daisy tells him, he nods in understanding. </p><p class="p1">“NYPD was like that.” They start walking into the park, a coffee shop standing in the middle, next to a playground. “Long hours, lots of coffee, a lot more crime.” </p><p class="p1">“What made you move here?” She asks, Cassie walking faithfully by her side whilst Minnie trots ahead on her tiny little legs. </p><p class="p1">“Me and my ex broke up and New York didn’t feel like it used to. I wanted a change, so Nevada it was.” He tells her. She tried to imagine him in an NYPD uniform, instead of their more casual shirts and jeans they wore to work, she can’t quite see it. But she knows that when people looked at her, it was hard to picture her in camouflage. “Why did you pick Nevada?” </p><p class="p1">“It was different.” A change from the quiet, conservative Milwaukee she had spent her first five years of life in, different again from freezing New York when her mother dropped her and Kora at St Agnes, and only slightly cooler than the harsh desert countries she had been deployed to in her army years. Vegas was just an easy place to blend into, she had no roots here aside from Bobbi and Hunter. </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, Bobbi said you moved a lot as a kid.” She nodded and stopped whilst Cassie sniffed the grass. </p><p class="p1">“Probably why I liked the forces so much. I don’t think we were anywhere for longer than a year, apart from Iraq, and that wasn’t really out of choice.” Cassie finishes and butts her leg when she sees Daisy’s hand tremor near her wrists, the feeling of ropes encasing them. She shook it off. </p><p class="p1">“Is it weird, coming back to civilisation and people not trying to kill you all the time?” She considers her answer. </p><p class="p1">“Yeah. It’s like...you forget how to live normally. You get so used to living out of a duffel bag and packing a gun before underwear and checking the doors for explosives, that when you come back, you forget that it’s not really necessary anymore. The weirdest thing for me was sleeping.” He listens with rapt attention as the dogs start to inspect each other, they stop to let them play a little. His eyes don’t hold that pity that so many people’s do and she’s grateful for that. </p><p class="p1">“Sleeping?” </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, first the nightmares are horrendous, but not sleeping with a strict schedule took some getting used to. For the first time in like, ever, I was in control of when I slept. And then I discovered that I’d rather be awake.” The  nightmares are definitely the worst part of coming home. They feel so real that it takes her some time to remember what it reality again. </p><p class="p1">“So, you were with Bobbi and Hunter for a while there, right?” He changes the subject and she’s glad he did. She hates talking about shit like that, once again to her therapists disappointment. </p><p class="p1">“Four years. Met Bobbi in training and Hunter when we were put in the same division.” </p><p class="p1">“So you must know a lot about them.” His tone is teasing and she can tell where this is going. She grins. </p><p class="p1">“What do you want to know?” </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Damages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A basement on a case draws up memories.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>angsty chapter i’m very sorry </p><p>however it does lead to bobbi and daisy content so oh well lol </p><p>WARNINGS: mention of torture, kidnapping, panic attacks, mentions of murder, rape and torture again, brief mention of suicide </p><p>like i said, very angsty chapter i’m sorry </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>March 3rd, 2017 </strong>
</p><p>It has been four hundred and thirty days. </p><p>Four hundred and thirty days of the same dirty brick walls and the same rotting hay in the floor and the same ropes on her wrists and ankles and waist, tying her to the wall. Every time she thinks the skin is starting to heal, it gets scraped away again. </p><p>Four hundred and thirty days is a long time to be on your own. Well, she’s not technically alone, there’s her kidnappers who make their appearances every now and then to try and torture information out of her. </p><p>Four hundred and thirty days and she hasn’t cracked yet. They’ve tried everything at this point, electroshock, water boarding, fear mongering, death threats, starvation...the list went on and she hasn’t cracked. </p><p>But four hundred and thirty days is also a long time to spend in your own head. Especially when your thoughts go at ninety miles per hour and it’s like there’s a bunch of people screaming in her head at one time when all she really wants is peace and quiet. </p><p>She’s been talking to herself a lot. Not much else to do, it’s not like terrorists provide entertainment for their prisoners. Just to confuse them she speaks in languages they don’t know, Spanish, Mandarin, even the tiny bits of Russian she picked up from Bobbi before- </p><p>She’s not thinking about it. That will just make her sad and she is determined that after four hundred and thirty fucking days, they will not see her break in the slightest way. </p><p>Talking is something she’s always been good at. She’s a “people person” apparently, she thinks that she might not be after this. If this ever ends that is. </p><p>God, she hopes it ends soon. She’s tired and pissed off and it’s been over a year, how much longer would they keep her alive? </p><p>The sun sets through the tiny crack in the ceiling above her, the only way she can keep track of day and night. </p><p>Four hundred and thirty one days and counting.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>It was a tough case. Bobbi knew that from the minute Coulson said that they were teaming up with Mack and Elena and Daisy, all five of them working together on the case. That was never a good sign.</p><p>Five bodies lay in the morgue, girls not much younger than Daisy or Jemma. All showing signs of struggle, torture and sexual assault, linking them together in the most horrific way. </p><p>Bobbi watched Daisy carefully on the case. She knew it was getting close to the anniversary of Kora’s death, knew that Daisy had already put in for the day off. Bobbi didn’t blame her. </p><p>But Daisy showed no outward signs of the case affecting her the week that they worked it. They all worked long hours that week, boards filling up with theories and leads, as the five of them worked tirelessly to bring the sick bastard to justice. </p><p>They finally found a connection with the last victim, twenty year old Dalia Watts, and a guy she had been in contact with online, a Lionel Newman. They looked into it and found that all the victims had been in contact with him, over some online poker site. He had promised them a good time and an all round tour of the best poker scenes in Vegas, and they had agreed, basically signing their own death certificates. </p><p>Daisy tracked his IP address and got a signal from a house in Henderson, Nevada. Daisy, Bobbi and Mack went in the front, Elena and Hunter in the back. The door was open and Newman was dead in his bathroom, a gun in hand. </p><p>Daisy sighed and went to look through the rest of the house just in case, finding the basement door open. She took a hesitant step through the door and shone her flashlight down, finding the scene of all five murders. </p><p>The scent of blood and stale air hit her immediately and the lack of light mixed with the fresh images of the girls in their morgue twisted her senses, sending her tumbling through memories of a basement just like this one in Iraq. </p><p>Seven hundred and thirty seven days. </p><p>She dropped her flashlight and bolted. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Bobbi runs after her, telling the others to stay put as Daisy slams out the front door, past the law enforcement that have shown up and down the street. </p><p>Bobbi is almost reminded of a very different time she was chasing Daisy, along the sands of a beach in San Diego, the first time they got time off together. They were racing and Daisy had just pulled ahead, Bobbi had longer legs but Daisy had more stamina. </p><p>This isn’t like then. Daisy is sprinting as fast as she can to escape the memories that Bobbi doesn’t know about, the reason for her scarred wrists and fear of the dark and flinches when the air smelled like sulfur. </p><p>“Daisy! Slow down!” But Daisy only speeds up, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car. Bobbi lets the car pass and follows Daisy into the playground at the end of the street they’ve ran into. </p><p>Daisy eventually stops running and stands in the middle of the grass, the playground empty thankfully. She looks lost and alone, breathing too quickly for Bobbi’s liking, whispering to herself in soft Mandarin that Bobbi’s brain can’t quite keep up with right now. </p><p>Bobbi approaches slowly, hands wide and face set in a non-threatening manner so to not spook Daisy. It’s been a while since she’s done this, the last time was probably for herself when Hunter found her mid-panic attack on the Fourth of July last year after a firework sent her spiralling.</p><p>Daisy’s eyes are unfocused and searching wildly for something that isn’t there. Bobbi places her hand gently on her shoulder and Daisy recoils but looks at her, words dying in her throat, soft as they were. </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I need you to tell me five things you can see Dais.” She says firmly, Daisy shakes her head, breaths still coming far too fast.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“B-b-basement, guns, c-c-chains-“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, Daisy, you’re not there. Close your eyes then open them and try to tell me five things you can see.” Daisy shakes, but obeys. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“T-t-the swings. Gr-grass. R-road. Tr-t-truck. Blue eyes.” Daisy stuttered out, but she got there, her breathing coming a little slower now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, good. Four things you can hear?” Daisy wanted to scream, she could still hear the fighter jets and bombs and whispering in her ear in that stupid fucking basement in Iraq.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Birds. You. C-cars. Fleetwood Mac.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Someone’s playing it, Rhiannon, I think. You’re doing really well, okay? Three things you can feel.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Grass. Cold air. Your hand on my shoulder.” Her breathing was almost normal now, her eyes were focused on Bobbi, though she was still shaky.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Two things you can smell, nearly there.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dirt. Metal from the swings.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And one thing you can taste.” Bobbi finished. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Blood. I bit my lip.” Daisy sighed in relief, taking a few deep breaths. Her lip was indeed bleeding. “Thanks.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You did good, kid. You’re okay.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought I was back. That i was stuck in that cell in Iraq.” Daisy’s finger taps three times against her leg and Bobbi squeezes her shoulder. They move to sit on the grass, Daisy plucks a few blades to weave together. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did they do there?” Bobbi asks cautiously. She has no idea if Daisy will want to talk about it. She hated talking about getting shot or doing rehab on her knee or leaving the army, so she understands why Daisy hates telling people about what was probably the worst experience of her life. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”Anything they could think of.” Daisy says softly, eyes trained on the ground. “They wanted information and I wouldn’t give them any. It was two years of pure hell and now I can’t even do my job properly without freaking out-“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dee, you’ve been back for what, ten months?” Bobbi interjects because Daisy would keep on at herself if she didn’t. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Eight, I had two months recovery in Belgium.” Daisy corrects quietly, eyes flitting to her scars. Bobbi softened. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Exactly. Daisy, I wasn’t there as long as you and I didn’t go through half of what you went through, and I still struggle every day. I have to carry a goddamn inhaler everywhere I go, I still freak at explosions, it took me months to pick up a gun or even be around one again. You’re allowed to struggle Daisy, it’s okay.” A single tear slid down Daisy’s face and Bobbi reached out to wipe it away, Daisy let her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”I’m sorry. I’ve been an ass to you.” Daisy said, catching Bobbi off guard. ”I was mad at you for something out with your control, I shouldn’t have froze you out. I would be angry at the guys who shot you and made you leave but uh, they kinda blew up.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s okay, Rockstar.” Bobbi laughed. “I’m sorry too, we should have tried harder to contact you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“By the time you would have been able to, I was in a basement.” Daisy pointed out and Bobbi laughed again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry about that too.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks. But hey, there was an upside.” Bobbi raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">“There was an upside to being kidnapped for two years?” </p><p class="p1">“Yep. It really helped my Arabic.” Daisy laughed when Bobbi pushed her gently. </p><p class="p1">“You tell your therapist that one?” </p><p class="p1">“He told me that I deflect my pain with humour.” </p><p class="p1">“He was right.” Bobbi agreed, Daisy gasped with mock outrage. </p><p class="p1">“You’re meant to be on my side!” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Point Break</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>November 3rd, 2012, the day Kora died.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay this is just an entire flashback chapter because it was going to be way way too long if i didn’t split </p><p>this chapter kind of had a mind of its own and somehow ended up with morsecode and daisykara friendship rights so do with that what you may </p><p>i’m going to put massive trigger warnings here because this talks about suicide and mentions it a bit graphically so if you need to skip please do</p><p>the division is so random but i love them a lot </p><p>WARNINGS: mention and talk of suicide, panic attacks, talk about death </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>November 3rd, 2012 </strong>
</p><p>They always know something bad is going to happen with someone is called to the CO’s office. Last time someone went in there, Bobbi’s parents had died, the time before that Izzy’s dad had cancer though he’d survived, before that they were all being told they were staying the year in Taiwan rather than the pre-planned five or seven months. </p><p>So when Daisy is called to the office when they get back from their morning run, the division all share looks of concern. </p><p>They’re all protective of their youngest, not even a legal adult yet, but she was fighting wars. She couldn’t even buy a drink on American soil (though not many of them could either) but she could dismantle bombs and take down snipers. Daisy and Kara were still practically children, it made them all want to protect them. </p><p>Bobbi paces the bunk, batons twirling in her hands. Hunter bounces a ball off the wall. Kara tries to play Go Fish with Izzy and Trip but they all keep glancing at the door. Vic and Lincoln set about organising their gear for their next attack but their hands shake a little. </p><p>When Daisy does return, it’s like the entire world has been dropped from under her. Her movements are slow and shaky, eyes full of unshed tears, lip bitten between her teeth. </p><p>“What happened?” Kara asks before anyone can stop her. Daisy shakes her head over and over again, as if it will dislodge whatever thoughts were running through her brain or it will make whatever happened a bad dream. </p><p>“Daisy?” Bobbi asks gently. Daisy refuses to look at any of them. “Zee?” </p><p>“K-ko-k-Kora.” Daisy stutters before she turns on her heel and sprints out the door. </p><p>“Who’s Kora?” Izzy asks at the retreating Daisy’s back, the door slams shut again. Bobbi stares for a minute before grabbing Daisy’s favourite blue Gatorade, which was gross to the rest of them but kept Daisy going, and wraps for their hands if Daisy was going where she thought she was going. </p><p>“Her sister.” Hunter supplies whilst Bobbi follows the younger girl, leaving their division behind. </p><p>She finds Daisy at a punching bag in their outdoor training course an hour later, the bag strung to a thick ring on a post. Tears stream down Daisy’s face, glinting in the setting sun and her fists glow red as her knuckles split against the harsh leather. </p><p>“What happened?” Bobbi asks softly when she approaches, Daisy’s fists falters. </p><p>“Kora’s roommate found her in the bathtub four days ago. She- uh, she- <em>fuck, </em>Bobbi, she slit her fucking wrists.” Daisy choked out, weak punches thrown against the bag. Bobbi’s breath caught in her throat. </p><p>Her parents died two months ago but that was an accident. This wasn’t. </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Rockstar.” Bobbi whispers, moving forward to lightly catch Daisy’s wrists before she did serious damage. Daisy’s eyes lifted to hers, a whole new world of pain there that took Bobbi’s breath away. </p><p>“I thought she was okay. When I left, she said she would be okay. Why, Bobbi? Why did she kill herself?” Daisy pleads and Bobbi pulls the girl closer to her. She doesn’t have the answers to those questions, no one except Kora did and well...she couldn’t exactly answer either.</p><p>”I don’t know, Dais. I really don’t know.” Daisy shakes against her chest, a wet patch growing on Bobbi’s shoulder. Her hands lay limply at her side, blood trickling down her knuckles and staining her cargo pants. </p><p>“She didn’t even leave a note or something and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there for her. It’s my fault.” Daisy whispered against her shoulder and Bobbi shakes her head and pulls Daisy away to make her look at her. </p><p>“No. You won’t want to believe me, but you need to listen to me. It was not your fault.” Bobbi tells her, but Daisy keeps shaking her head, fist beginning to hammer against her thigh.</p><p>”We were all we had left of our family. We only had each other for so long and I left her alone.” The tears come thick and fast again as Daisy draws in a ragged breath. “I left her alone.” </p><p>“You couldn’t have known, Dee. I know it hurts, and I’m so sorry, but you can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t know how she was feeling.” Daisy clearly doesn’t believe but Bobbi tells her anyway. The younger girl rubs furiously at her eyes to rid the tears, her face still stained in the dry heat of Taiwan. </p><p>“Can we- can we spar or something? I need something to concentrate on.” Daisy asks and of course, Bobbi nods. She’s pretty sure it’s not the healthiest coping mechanism but if it helps right now, then she’ll do anything Daisy wants.</p><p>Bobbi deposits the Gatorade on the edge of the “sparring zone” which is really just a patch of empty dry dirt. Daisy stripped off her cargo pants and Black Sabbath shirt, the clothes feeling too restrictive on her still shaking limbs. She took her stance in her shorts and sports bra, cracking her neck. Bobbi joins her soon after, handing her wraps which Daisy ignored as she often did. </p><p>“They’re burying her next to my dad. Next Thursday.” Daisy says whilst Bobbi stretches out and wrapped her hands. It makes her stop a minute. She knows what Daisy is saying, the guilt underneath that sentence. Daisy won’t make it to her sister’s funeral like Bobbi couldn’t make it to her parents. </p><p>“We can go next year.” Bobbi promises, Daisy nods resolutely. Bobbi finishes her stretches and takes up a similar position to Daisy. “Hit me.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>“Hey kid.” Hunter said when they eventually went back to the bunk. Daisy gave him a wobbly smile and put her earphones in, legs tucked under on her bed. </p><p>“How is she?” Izzy whispered when Bobbi went to grab a change of clothes. Daisy was ruthless when they’d sparred and Bobbi let her be. Her shirt was caked with dirt. </p><p>“She’s calmed down a bit. It’s too early to tell how she’ll deal with this.” Bobbi said, matching Izzy’s tone. Vic and Izzy exchanged a worried glance. “Don’t crowd her, you know she hates coddling.” </p><p>“Were they close?” Vic asks. </p><p>“She said they were all the other had for a long time. Kora couldn’t look after Daisy when she aged out the system, it’s why Dee ended up here. She kept running away to see Kora, so they sent her to military academy and then she chose to enlist. But they were closer than most siblings.” Bobbi explained, casting a glance back to Daisy who’s completely spaced out, staring at the floor. </p><p>“It’s probably better that Daisy wasn’t the one to find her.” Izzy reasons. </p><p>“She’s guilty about it. Said that it wouldn’t have happened if she was there for Kora.” </p><p>“She can’t know that.” Vic says and Bobbi shakes her head. </p><p>“She’s only seventeen. Of course she thinks it’s her fault.” Izzy says a little bitterly and Bobbi has to agree. They forget sometimes, just how young Daisy is. </p><p>“So, what’s for dinner?” Lincoln calls out a while later, breaking the uneven silence that had fallen over the bunk. </p><p>“What are they serving in the mess hall?” Hunter asks. </p><p>“Well it’s Saturday, so meatloaf or hamburgers.” Vic tells them, gaining groans. Eleven months of the same food week in, week out gets old after a while. </p><p>“Hey, Dais? You hungry?” Kara asks her tentatively. Daisy hasn’t spoken or even moved for the past three hours they’ve been back in the bunk. She starts slightly when Kara talks to her. Her fingernails are bleeding, she must have been picking at them. </p><p>“No.” Daisy says, voice a little hoarse. She winced. “No, thanks.” </p><p>“You should really eat something, kid. You haven’t eaten since last night.” Izzy says in a gentle tone. Daisy skipped breakfast most days, as did Kara and nothing could convince them otherwise. But she’d been told about Kora at half nine that morning and it was half eight at night now. </p><p>“I’m not hungry.” Daisy protested, fidgeting nervously. </p><p>“Zee...” Vic started but Daisy shook her head resolutely. </p><p>“Don’t, please. My sister literally died this morning, or at least that’s when I found out. I’m not hungry and I don’t want to talk about it and I won’t be able to go to her funeral and our mom won’t know and my Ipod ran out and we’ve got a mission tomorrow and-“ </p><p>“Daisy! Breathe!” Kara cut her off, Daisy hovering near panic attack level. </p><p>“Sorry. Sorry, I’m sorry.” Daisy repeated it like a mantra, sinking off her bed to the cooler cement floor. The others took a step back, all of them having experience with panic or anxiety attacks. Kara stayed next to Daisy. </p><p>“Can you count with me?” Kara said quietly, getting Daisy to look at her. She offered a soft smile when Daisy gave her a small nod. “We’ll go up in three’s okay?” </p><p>She got another jerky nod from the girl and everyone else left as they began to count, bringing Daisy back from hyperventilation. </p><p>“How old was her sister?” Trip asks once they’re out of earshot of them bunk. Bobbi and Hunter exchange a look, they’ve known her the longest. </p><p>“Twenty three.” Bobbi says eventually. The silence that follows is deafening. That’s too young, they’re all too young for all of this. </p><p>“She’ll be okay, right?” Lincoln asks, but none of them have an answer. </p><p>“One day.” Hunter says. Bobbi doesn’t say anything because she’s still working on being “okay” herself. </p><p>“We may have made a dire mistake.” Vic says as they near the mess hall. They all turn to look at her. “We left Daisy and Kara alone in the bunk.” </p><p>“I think they have bigger issues than pranks this time.” Izzy points out, though they all cast worried glances back at their bunk. Last time Daisy and Kara had been left alone they all had fire ants in their shoes and Lincoln’s coffee stash had been stolen and replaced with decaf. To be fair, it had been part of their prank war. </p><p>“Let’s have a little faith in them.” Bobbi said tiredly, and they head into the mess hall to enjoy tonight’s delightful meal. </p><p>Daisy and Kara joined them midway through dinner, both looked a little wrung out and both had tear stains on their faces. Daisy slid in next to Bobbi and placed her head on the taller girl’s shoulder whilst Kara settled in between Vic and Izzy, doing much the same. </p><p>“Better, little ones?” Hunter asked. They both shrugged, showing their weariness if neither was willing to smack Hunter for the nickname. </p><p>“My sister’s still dead.” Daisy said. </p><p>“So is my douchebag boyfriend.” Kara added. </p><p>“Well, one step at a time, yeah?” Izzy said encouragingly, they both smiled for the first time in a while. </p><p>“Yeah.” Kara agreed, Daisy nodded. “One step at a time.” </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yeah, kara’s dead ex is ward and he will literally never be mentioned ever again except in passing because i hate him with a burning passion of a thousand suns but daisy and kara bonded in the bunk about that, i just didn’t write it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Quiet Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bobbi goes to check on Daisy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>another angsty chapter, ta da! </p><p>i’m so sorry if you wanted like a cute fluffy fic of them solving crimes or something but idk how to write that so here, have angst and childhood trauma </p><p>WARNINGS: referenced suicide, mentions of murder, mentions of torture and iraq </p><p>i love morsecode okay they’re so soft and i love them </p><p> -bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><span class="s1"> <strong>Present</strong> </span> <strong> <span class="s1"> Day </span> </strong></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bobbi was just about to pack up to leave when Coulson approached her in the locker room. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry to bother you, Bobbi, I was just wondering if Daisy had been in touch today?” She looked at him curiously. It was November 3rd after all. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s her day off isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I also know it’s the anniversary of her sister’s death, I just want to be sure she’s okay.” His voice holds concern. He’s attached to Daisy already, she doesn’t blame him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can go round to her apartment and check? She normally liked to be left alone or punch and shoot out her issues, but that was four years ago and...”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s different now.” He finishes, she nods. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah...different.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d appreciate it if you could check on her.” She finishes packing up her bag and locker and shuts the metal door. He gives her a kind smile. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Will do, Coulson. See you Monday?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See you then Bobbi.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bobbi looked at the door in front of her and sighed. Was this a good idea? Daisy had taken the day off and Bobbi knew why, she also knew that Daisy hated to be coddled on this day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But, she also didn’t want Daisy dealing with this alone. It had only been a week or so since her panic attack in the park and Coulson had asked her to go check. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So, suck it up Morse, she told herself. You care way too much about the girl behind the door to chicken out now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daisy?” She called as she knocked the apartment door. The building was nice, but anything is nice after you’ve spent time in the army she supposed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She heard a rustle from inside, the click of a lock and finally, the door swung open to reveal a tear stained Daisy in her pajamas.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” Daisy said, voice hoarse from crying. Bobbi’s heart melted.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Rockstar.” Bobbi said softly. “Can I come in?” Daisy nods and steps aside to let Bobbi in. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy’s apartment is...chaotic, if Bobbi had to find a word. Open plan kitchen and living room, two doors leading to a bedroom and the bathroom. Posters covered the walls, Pink Floyd, Blink-182, Fall Out Boy, Metallica. All the bands she can remember Daisy listening to on that Ipod, garnering her the nickname “Rockstar”. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you want a drink or anything?” Daisy asks, almost shyly. There’s a stack of dishes next to the sink that need doing, blankets twisted up on the couch where Daisy had clearly been sleeping, pictures lying out on the coffee table. All signs that point to Daisy not doing as well as she made out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Water’s fine.” Bobbi answers, moving to sit on the couch. Daisy’s laptop is lying open, a video playing of two young girls, clearly Daisy and Kora. It’s from 1999, putting Daisy at age four and Kora at age ten. God knows who took it or where Daisy found it, but the girls look happy enough. They make daisy chains in the long grass of what could be a park, Daisy gleefully places hers on her sister’s head and pronounced her the flower queen. Bobbi smiled at their innocence. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s a whole bunch of those.” Daisy says, gesturing to the laptop and video, a bottle of water in one hand, blue Gatorade in another. Some things never changed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where did you find them?” Bobbi asked. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The storage locker I bought for Kora’s stuff when she died. She had them on this old video camera, I cleaned up the footage.” Daisy explains. Bobbi remembers that storage locker, the first thing Daisy did when they left Taiwan and went state side for a month before they got shipped to Bahrain. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you wanna talk about it?” Bobbi asks gently, Daisy looked away. A fidget toy rests on her lap, but her fingers are knitted together, twitching every now, clearly begging to be moved. They used to reprimand her all the time for fidgeting in training. Bobbi guessed it was ingrained in her at this point. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m the same age she was when she died.” Daisy says quietly, eyes on the photo of her sister on the table. It’s probably the last photo anyone ever took of Kora, smiling at some college party with a boy’s arm around her shoulders. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s what Bobbi imagines Daisy would look like if she hadn’t been in the army. Kora’s face is smooth and unscarred and youthful, Daisy’s is marred by bits by of shrapnel slicing her cheek or a knife dragged down her eyebrow in Iraq or the explosion that almost cost her her life. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She looks like you.” Bobbi says, Daisy scoffs and picks up the photo. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She was always the perfect one. She was Mom’s favourite anyway, my Dad probably preferred murder but he seemed enamoured by Kora too. I wanted to be just like her when we were growing up. I was twelve when she left the orphanage and all I wanted was to go with her. But then I kept trying to and they kept taking me back and we always promised we’d be together again one day, when I was old enough or when she had a stable job, but...the day never came.” The video changes as Daisy speaks, it must be Kora’s birthday in the next one. An eight year old Kora blows out her candles and two year old Daisy wriggles excitedly in her mother’s arms, (though her mother doesn’t look too thrilled with the situation) as the flames extinguish. A man behind the camera cheers loudly and tells little Daisy no when her tiny hands make grabby motions at the cake. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s strange to think about really. Watching those videos of Daisy's family, you’d think they were happy, (apart from Daisy’s mom’s clear distaste for the entire situation, but then again, she was a bio-terrorist) a normal suburban dream like Bobbi was living. But two years after this video was taken, Daisy’s father would start killing people and three years after the video, her mom would leave them on an orphanage doorstep and fifteen years after the video, Kora would kill herself and Daisy would be the only one left. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her heart breaks for the girl in the video, the one held by a mother who doesn’t want to hold her and the one in the shadow of her sister and the one with a psychotic father and the one who would grow up to be strong, yet broken.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you miss that?” Bobbi asks softly, instead of saying all of that out loud. She motions to the video at Daisy’s questioning eyebrow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Daisy says resolutely but Bobbi raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No. If that didn’t end then I wouldn’t have done everything I’ve done in my life. I wouldn’t have been put in a division that became more like my family than my blood, I wouldn’t have travelled to foreign countries and been shot at like it was a Sunday stroll, and I wouldn’t have met you.” Bobbi tears her gaze from a grainy video of Kora’s first steps to look at the younger woman. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If it hadn’t ended you could have grown up happy and loved.” Bobbi points out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My dad was a psychopath and my mom joined a bio-terrorism cult and my sister killed herself. We weren’t happy.” Daisy says, nodding to the video. “It was destined for failure but it didn’t make it hurt any less.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think she would have been proud of you. Kora, I mean.” Bobbi says quietly, smoothening the edges of a picture of four year old Daisy and ten year old Kora and their parents, the last photo they’d ever take as a family. “That you didn’t give up.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I talked to her. In the basement.” Daisy says, slowly and shakily like she’ll expect Bobbi to judge her. Bobbi prompts her to continue instead. “I knew she wasn’t there obviously, I didn’t quite reach the point of hallucination, though there were some close calls. But, it helped. Told her about my life and what she’d missed. I told her about you and Hunter and Kara and the rest of the division. I told her I missed her because even though she was everything I wasn’t, she was my sister and I loved her.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bobbi doesn’t know how comfortable Daisy is with touch nowadays, so she keeps a safe distance, but places a hand on Daisy’s knee. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I talked to my parents when I was recovering. It was sometime between surgeries, I was high as balls on morphine and concoction of other drugs. But, I saw them, or at least my imagination put them there. I did the same, told them about my life and what they’d missed and who they’d missed. I told them about the disaster that was Lance Hunter and about the strong, ass kicking girl named Daisy Johnson that I missed so much it hurt. I told them about their graves and how I missed the funeral but I visited whenever I could. My subconscious version of them was very understanding.” Daisy laughs a little wetly at that and Bobbi manages a small grin. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We make quite the pair don’t we?” Daisy laughed and Bobbi poked her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The best pair. Why do you think we get teamed up so much?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Eye candy.” Daisy answers sincerely and Bobbi rolls her eyes. At least she had succeeded in making Daisy laugh. Score one, Morse. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re allowed to miss them. You know that right?” Bobbi says when they’ve been quiet for a while. The last video is playing, the day they brought Daisy home from the hospital. Six year old Kora is fawning over her new sister and even Daisy’s mom looks happy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Daisy whispers, “I’ll always miss them. But you can’t change the past.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Only the future.” Bobbi recites, an age old veteran therapy saying everyone despises. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you wanna stay the night? We can watch movies or whatever.” Daisy offers and Bobbi is agreeing almost immediately. She feels comfortable here, safe even. The apartment she shared with Hunter can feel overwhelming and stuffy sometimes, but Daisy’s place is...open. Beauty found in the chaos. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Star Wars?” Bobbi asks hopefully and Daisy rolled her eyes, a carbon copy of ten year old Kora who accepts her flower crown from her sister as the video loops back to the beginning. Bobbi has to grin at their similarities. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t believe I missed two different movies because I was in a fucking basement.” Daisy complains, stacking the photos and placing them back in the box under the table, closing the laptop and queueing the movies on the tv. “I hated that fucking place.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve mentioned that.” Bobbi teases, Daisy pouts and lies down on the couch, head in Bobbi’s lap. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Piece of advice, don’t get kidnapped in Iraq.” Daisy said before playing the first movie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">“I thought that was obvious.” </p><p class="p1">“I just thought I’d give you a heads up.” </p><p class="p1">“How considerate.” </p><p class="p1">“Hush, pretty girl with aliens and light up swords.” Daisy hushed her and Bobbi rolls her eyes but shuts up, risking stroking a hand through Daisy’s hair. </p><p class="p1">She seemed okay in Bobbi’s opinion. Not better or fixed or whole, but okay. And that was good enough. Because Bobbi was going to be okay too. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Fuel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A hot night in Afghanistan and movie night.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi i hate this chapter but set up is important </p><p>the flashback is really long so sorry about that and the present day stuff is short and dumb but ehhh</p><p>WARNINGS: terrorism, bombs, Whitehall being a creepy little shit, guns </p><p>also sorry for the delay in a new chapter! i don’t know when the next one will be up tbh so sorry about that but thank you for reading! </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>December 3rd, 2013 </strong>
</p><p>The sweaty heat of Afghanistan wraps around them. They’ve only been here a month, but it’s been a long hard month and all any of them want is to go home, whatever home is for them now. </p><p>It’s down to Daisy, Bobbi, Hunter, Kara and Lincoln, the rest of their division is waiting for med evac. They’d tracked a terrorist cell, Achilles, which had been involved with HYDRA, the group they took down in Bahrain six months ago now, to a compound in Jadak. Both groups were ran out of Zagreb in Croatia, but they ran most operations from their compounds in Bahrain and Jadak. </p><p>“We just have to make it to the next evac point!” Bobbi shouted, ducking sharply behind an overturned table as bullets came soaring past. Achilles had not taken well to this little intrusion. </p><p>“I can take the servers out if we can get to the server room!” Daisy shouted back, peeking out from behind her bit of wall she’d hidden behind with Kara and Lincoln. “It’ll weaken them!” </p><p>“You could also be killed, love!” Hunter called, Daisy rolled her eyes and aimed her gun out at the three agents aiming at them. She hit one in the head and he went down, the other two just reloaded. </p><p>“Any of us could be killed Lancelot!” Kara shouted over the gunfire. “We won’t get another chance like this!” </p><p>“Okay! Johnson, Palamas and me will head to the server room, boys cover our asses!” Bobbi was the lead agent now that Vic was back at the last evac point. She waited for their nods and signalled Hunter to throw out a flash bomb, temporarily blinding the two agents and giving the others an opportunity. </p><p>They get out of the room they were trapped in and along the hall to the server room. The gunfire stops and Lincoln and Hunter’s heavy footsteps are trudging after them. </p><p>“Everyone alright?” Bobbi asks cautiously. The answer is normally no. </p><p>“Well apart from the terrorists chasing us, the heat of the fucking desert, and the fact that Daisy and Kara and Lincoln are all bleeding and haven’t said a thing, I’d say this is a casual Sunday stroll.” Hunter says sarcastically. Kara, Lincoln and Daisy all look away from Bobbi’s scanning eyes, spotting the blood on Lincoln’s left shoulder, Kara’s temple and right leg and Daisy’s ribs. </p><p>“I’m going to personally kill all of you if the terrorists don’t do it first. You’re supposed to tell us about injuries!” Bobbi chastises but they don’t exactly have time for a shakedown right now. She’ll enlist Vic and Izzy later to shout at them. </p><p>“No time for that now. Come on, server room is through here.” Daisy brushed past her, gun drawn at the door. She kicked it in and they headed into the server room, Lincoln and Kara staying to guard the door. “Okay, I just need to plug this drive in, download their info and set a virus through their servers.” </p><p>Daisy sat down at the computer in the centre, plugged the drive in her pocket in and got to work. Bobbi and Hunter watched the code fly over the screens and the download icon begin to fill. </p><p>“Incoming!” Kara shouted from the door, Bobbi and Hunter swivelled to the door. Kara and Lincoln were knocked out on the floor and four Achilles agents stepped in. </p><p>“Now, now, no need to do anything rash.” A distinctly German voice told them, a white haired man standing before them. Whitehall, the leader of HYDRA, had clearly jumped ship to Achilles. </p><p>“This guy? Again?” Hunter asked tiredly, gun trained on the two Achilles agents at the door, Bobbi’s trained on Whitehall and Daisy’s trained on the other agent. </p><p>“Now, this little division has caused me quite a bit of upheaval in the past year. I mean there’s only so many Greek myths you can go through for names.” He said sarcastically, a teasing smile playing on his lips. It made their stomachs twist. </p><p>“I’m sure that’s incredibly taxing on your PR department.” Daisy said from behind them, keeping an eye on the computer and the progress of the download. It was only at halfway, they needed more time. </p><p>“Ahh, she’s a fiery one. I like that.” He even dared to lick his lips and Daisy broke out in a cold sweat when he did. Bobbi moved instinctively to shield her. “Now, if you’ll just move out of way, we’ll take back what you’re stealing and be on our merry way.” </p><p>“I don’t see that happening.” Hunter stared him down, the other agents waiting for Whitehall’s command. Whitehall just laughed. </p><p>“You three? That’s the world’s defence? Xena, an extra from The Bill and a teenager?” Whitehall laughed at them, but Bobbi caught movement behind the leader and his cronies. Izzy and Trip had recovered from the knockout gas from the start of the compound and were holding strips of TNT. She caught Izzy’s eyes and blinked five times signalling they needed five minutes. She reached her arm back and tapped Daisy’s hand to ask how long the download would take. She received three taps. </p><p>“Okay, well I’m eighteen, so fuck you.” Daisy said indignantly, Whitehall narrowed his eyes. </p><p>“And who might you be?” His eyes raked her body and Daisy reflexively narrowed her eyes at him and her hands started trembling. </p><p>A fire erupted in Bobbi’s stomach when Whitehall cast his dirty eyes over her girlfriend. She went to take a step forward but Hunter held onto to her sleeve and shook his head.</p><p>”None of your fucking concern.” Daisy spat and he laughed at her. She practically growled at him and turned back to the computer, the download button reaching full. She tapped Bobbi’s hand again and removed the flash drive. </p><p>“So, what’s your plan here? Are you going to kill us?” Hunter asked. </p><p>“That could be fun. However, I think I would have much more fun using you lot to test out some things. Couple new drugs, maybe get some information. I’m sure I could find some absolutely <em>delightful </em>ways to get you to talk. Start with the firecracker and work our way to Xena warrior?” And because he had been busy giving his whole mastermind speech, him and his goons didn’t notice the sticks of TNT that Izzy and Trip were lying at the door. </p><p>They have the nod to Bobbi and edged back out the door, taking Kara and Lincoln with them. The three remaining soldiers started edging back towards the other door. </p><p>“Well, this has been fun, but you know, places to be, terrorists to stop.” Hunter said with a grin as they got out of the door and sprinted away, hearing the explosion and flying forward with the blast of it. </p><p>They lay panting on the hot sand outside the compound they just blew up, helicopters circling them. </p><p>“So...who’s house are we going to for Christmas?” Daisy wheezed, stretching her hand out for Bobbi, who gripped it tightly. </p><p>“Fuck it, let’s go to Florida.” Hunter said, laughing slightly at the sheer absurdity of what had just happened. They literally just escaped by the skin of their teeth and now they were making Christmas plans. </p><p>“I don’t care where we go, I’m just glad we’re alive.” Bobbi sighed in relief. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>“Hey Rockstar, ready to go?” Bobbi asks Daisy when she finds her in the locker room. It’s been a long case, five bodies found with the same symbols carved into their chests as three bodies they worked on a case a couple months ago. Both cases were still unsolved but they’ve been moved to another murder. </p><p>“Yep, just had to change. So, I finally got invited to movie night?” Daisy says sarcastically, making Bobbi shake her head. </p><p>“You were invited every time, dingus. You just chose not to come.” Bobbi points out. </p><p>“I was trying to investigate those symbols on our victims, they looked familiar.” Daisy’s eyes track down to her arm and she scratches absentmindedly there. Bobbi frowns. </p><p>“As in, “first three bodies familiar” or “Iraq familiar”?” She asks and Daisy shrugs it off. </p><p>“I don’t know, I just have the feeling that we’ve seen them before. It’s probably nothing. Don't we have movies to watch?” Bobbi frowns again at Daisy, but lets it lie. </p><p>“Well come on then my young friend, people to see, places to be.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>“Die Hard is not a Christmas movie!” Jemma cried when Daisy made the suggestion. </p><p>“It’s set during Christmas and there’s snow, of course it’s a Christmas movie! Bobbi back me up, we used to watch it every holiday!” Daisy defended, turning to Bobbi with begging eyes. </p><p>“You were in the army, that doesn’t count.” Jemma laughed when they gave her offended looks and even May rolled her eyes. </p><p>“You know I’m actually not a big fan of violence.” Bobbi said but Daisy gave her an unimpressed look. “What?” </p><p>“You spend most of our conversations and the ones with Hunter threatening to beat us up or hitting us.” Daisy stuck her tongue out when Bobbi did end up hitting her. “I have a point!” </p><p>“Can one of you just decide what movie we’re watching next, you’re going to give me a nervous breakdown.” May said tiredly, suddenly reminded why she hardly came to these things. It made her miss Elena, but she was working night shift with Mack. </p><p>“Sorry May.” The three of them chorused. </p><p>“So...Die Hard?” Daisy asked again. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Daisy has a nightmare.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i’m sorry </p><p>so very sorry </p><p>no genuinely i’m sorry this keeps getting angstier and i don’t know how to stop it </p><p>however we do get mama may content and morsecode content and yknow, that’s what matters in my head </p><p>WARNINGS(massive trigger warnings okay pls be careful with this chapter): implied rape, mention of torture, aftermath of rape, aftermath of torture </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>December 24th, 2017</strong>
</p><p>She’s in pain. </p><p>The days are starting to blur together. </p><p>And she’s so fucking <em>tired. </em></p><p>Two goddamn years she’s been stuck in this goddamn basement. Seven hundred and twenty nine fucking days. Of those days she can only remember about two hundred odd when she was fed, one hundred when she wasn’t tortured and only about fifty when she was given a shower. </p><p>It’s just so much effort to wake up now. She gave up hope long ago of being rescued, now she’s just waiting on an opportunity to escape. They don’t make it easy, but she knows there’s going to be  a rotation of torturers soon. It happened the first year and this year, so it has to happen next year too. She just has to make it nine days. </p><p>But fuck, she’s so tired. </p><p>They've gone back to starving her, so she hasn’t eaten in...two weeks? It could be three. She’s not too sure, actually. </p><p>She groans as she rolls over, the familiarly hard ground beneath her body not doing anything to help with the inevitable ache in her bones. She’s cold, it’s warm outside and she knows that, but exposure has been slowly setting in over time and now she can’t seem to get warm. </p><p>The door to her cell opens, light streaming in and she flinches as heavy boots approach. She can’t do this again today. She opens her eyes and looks up at the latest torturer. This one at least speaks English. </p><p>“Hello, Daisy. Are you ready to talk today?” She wonders where he’s from, his accent is a strange mix of German, Russian and American. She forces a smile. </p><p>“Nunca hablaré.” (I’ll never talk.) He smirks at this and something in his eyes makes her stomach flip. She tries to curl in on herself but she’s forced up by the shoulders to a sitting position. </p><p>“My, my, you are a difficult one. No worries, I’ve got some ideas to make you talk. We’ll break you eventually.” His eyes search hungrily down her body and she fights the urge to throw up. </p><p>“It won’t work.” She spits at him. “I won’t break.” </p><p>“Hmm, we’ll see if you’re still saying that when I’m through with you.” He turns to the guards outside the door. “Leave us.” They go and he tightens the ropes on her wrists and ankles, the blood soaked knots cutting into her scarred flesh yet again. She winces and tries to escape him but she’s weakened by the lack of food and he’s so strong. </p><p>She’s terrified. They have never tortured her in this room before, they always took her out. She’s come to think of this room as safe, no one has hurt her in the basement. Even though her restraints bite into her flesh and eat away at her wrists and ankles, and though it’s cold and damp down here, it’s safe. </p><p>It won’t be safe after this. It will be the place she was raped, the place she truly lost all control. All she has left is her mind now, the information they want so badly is safely tucked in her head. </p><p>She just has to hold out nine days. </p><p>“This doesn’t have to happen if you just tell us about HYDRA and Achilles, Daisy.” She hates the way he says her name. Like he’s doing her some great favour, like he <em>owns </em>her. She spits in his face. </p><p>“I’m not telling you anything. You can do what you like to me, I’m not breaking.” Nine days, that’s all she has to hold out now. Nine days. </p><p>“If that’s how you want to play it.” He smiles evilly and reaches down to her dirty underwear they’ve left her keep all this time. She flinches and tries to wriggle away but he grabs her back and tears her underwear. Tears begin rolling down her face but he doesn’t stop. “Just tell me what I want to know and I’ll stop, Daisy.” </p><p>And it aches to do so, her very soul burns within her and her skin, cold as it is, lights on fire beneath his violating touch. She takes a deep breath and utters the word, “<em>No</em>.” </p><p>“I might enjoy this then. It’ll stop the minute you tell us about HYDRA and Achilles, remember. We might even feed you. Compliance will be rewarded Daisy.” She stares resolutely at the ceiling, the hole in the roof giving her a tiny glimpse at that freedom she craved. The stars were bright tonight. She wondered if Bobbi could see them, wherever she was. She wondered if Kora saw them before she died. Daisy prayed that she did. </p><p>“Happy Christmas Daisy.” Is whispered in her ear before he starts and she lets out a harsh sob before silencing herself. She won’t give him that satisfaction. </p><p>She can make it through the next eight days. She can. She can. She can. </p><p>Maybe if she tells herself it enough, she’ll actually start to believe it. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>It’s not often that the partnerships change when they’re working cases. More often than not, they’ll just team up with another partnership, or Daisy will tag team or they’ll all be on separate cases. So when it does happen, Bobbi relishes in it. </p><p>It’s never easy cases, but this one was particularly bad by Bobbi’s standards. Young women being groomed online and lured to modelling studios that were in fact just some guys basement where they were then raped and killed...it was just horrific. </p><p>Coulson had put her, May and Daisy on this case because they were best suited, but she’s beginning to think maybe he should have background checked them all before assigning it to them. They get the job done obviously, but it’s clearly taking a toll on them. She feels heavy and deflated, like the case has sucked the very life out of her. May doesn’t look much better, her knuckles are white against the black leather of the steering wheel and she’s been more silent than usual, which was really saying something. And Daisy...</p><p>Daisy hadn’t told her the full extent of what happened in Iraq, but Bobbi read the medical report and put it together for herself. This case was hitting just a little too close to home for her, and in true Daisy fashion, she ignored it and moved on. She was bottling it up and Bobbi knew that she had to crack soon. </p><p>They were driving back from the crime scene, they had just barely gotten there in time to save the latest victim, cutting it so close that Bobbi had to shoot the guy just to save her. May was driving, Bobbi was in the passenger seat and Daisy was asleep in the back, having fallen asleep on the long drive across Nevada. </p><p>“Are you okay?” May says quietly as they stop in at a gas station. Bobbi quirks an eyebrow at her. </p><p>“You want to talk about feelings?” She asks and May gives her a tired glare. </p><p>“You shot him, Bobbi. I just want to make sure you aren’t going to go nuts after this or whatever.” Bobbi looks out the window at the neon lights from the gas station and bites her lip. The guy wasn’t dead, she’d shot him in the shoulder, but the recoil of the gun and the noise was enough to almost send her spiralling. </p><p>“I still get nervous around guns. I’m always scared that it’s happening again, that I won’t survive this time. It’s getting better.” Bobbi explains quietly and May nods in understanding. </p><p>“It took me nearly five years to pick up a gun again, never mind shoot one. You’re doing amazing, Bobbi. You survived. You just have to keep on surviving.” May squeezes her shoulder before hopping out the car to pump the gas and Bobbi pulls out her phone to check her messages and tell Jemma about the emotional pep talk May just gave her. Simmons finds it hilarious and sends her a picture of Fitz laughing so hard he’s red in the face and there’s spilled water, so at least the Science Twins™️ got a kick out of it. </p><p>She’s just about to text Hunter to tell him not to wait up since they won’t get back to HQ until late, when she hears a whimper from the backseat. She tenses and turns around as quietly as she can, flipping the light on, soft light filling the car. </p><p>Daisy whimpers again, fighting invisible attackers in her sleep, hands stuck together above her head like they’re tied. Tears slip down her cheeks and Bobbi stares for a good minute and a half before she snaps back to the present when Daisy starts getting vocal. </p><p>“Please....<em>please.” </em>The younger girl begs whoever is hurting her. Her pleas are so soft and vulnerable that it hurts Bobbi to see and hear. </p><p>“Daisy, you’re dreaming. You’ve gotta wake up, Rockstar.” Bobbi whispers, leaning through the seats to the shaking girl in the backseat. Daisy flinches at the sound of her voice and fights harder against her imaginary restraints. </p><p>Had this been a nightmare in the bunks of Taiwan or Bahrain or Kuwait, Bobbi could have slipped in next to Daisy and held her until she woke up and kissed away her tears, but she can’t do that now. They’d changed since then, and Bobbi doesn’t even know what Daisy is dreaming right now. She doesn’t know how to comfort her now. </p><p>Luckily, May is well versed in this type of thing and she suddenly opens the rear door next to Daisy’s head and places a steady hand on Daisy’s shoulder. The girl flinches and May whispers something indecipherable to Bobbi in Daisy’s ear, before Daisy bolts upright and continues straining against her invisible restraints. May catches her easily and forces her to look at her wrists and see the bare scarred skin there. </p><p>“You’re okay, Daisy. Just a nightmare.” May says softly and Daisy just stares at her wrists, legs coming up to curl under her. Bobbi watches her try to come back to the present, tears still running down her face. Daisy shakes in the backseat, taking deep breaths as she tried to decipher what was real and what wasn’t. </p><p>“Wh- where are we?” She says, her words choppy and hoarse with the weight of her past dripping from them. </p><p>“A gas station in Pioche. We’ll be back at HQ soon.” May tells her and Daisy nods, still trying to calm herself. </p><p>“Do you want to tell us what you were dreaming about?” Bobbi asks carefully. Daisy flinches at the mention of her nightmare but nods shakily, and May takes this as a cue to sit next to her in the backseat. </p><p>“Iraq was...it was every bad dream come to life. They wanted information about HYDRA and Achilles, bad enough that they kept me there for seven hundred and thirty seven days. It was hell on earth, but I didn’t break. I didn’t break.” It’s almost like a promise to herself when she says it. Bobbi recognises it as her way of reminding herself that she made it and it was worth something. All that pain was worth it because the information in Daisy’s head stayed there. </p><p>“Were you in Iraq in your nightmare?” May prompts her to continue and Daisy nods. </p><p>“It was the usual torture at first. Electroshock, water boarding, starvation, whatever. I could deal with that. But, there was a new torturer sometimes around the end of the second year. He- he was sadistic. He got off in seeing me in pain but I still wouldn’t tell them anything. He wasn’t getting the results he wanted by later December and he- he-“ Her voice breaks and she looks away like she’s ashamed, or they’ll judge her. Bobbi looks at May, sees the same anger and fear in her eyes at what this guy did to Daisy and nods. May reaches forward to Daisy, making sure the girl can see she’s not a threat, and puts a comforting hand on her arm. It lets Daisy know that it’s okay to tell them what happened, that she won’t be judged or hurt here. </p><p>“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” Bobbi says softly, Daisy looks at her. The pain in her eyes takes her breath away but she forces herself to smile and nod encouragingly. Daisy needs to talk about this before it swallows her whole, but they’re giving her the option anyway. </p><p>“It was Christmas Day.” She whispers eventually, her fingers beating a harsh rhythm against her thigh. “They’d already tortured me the day before and I thought they’d give me a rest day like they normally did. But he came in. He got the other guards to leave and that’s when I knew what was going to happen. He tightened my restraints and said that I just had to tell them about HYDRA and Achilles and he wouldn’t do it. They’d feed me if I told them. <em>“Compliance will be rewarded.” </em>But I didn’t. I didn’t break and he- he- <em>he </em><em>raped me.” </em></p><p>Daisy dissolves into tears again, curling herself into a tiny ball in the backseat. Bobbi has to fight the urge to throw up, punch the car and shoot whoever raped Daisy all at the one time. May looks angry and then a little lost at the sobbing girl next to her, but makes an executive decision and hugs the girl closer to her. Daisy tries to escape from her touch but May holds on tight and Daisy eventually accepts the hug and holds onto her arms, sobbing for all she was worth. </p><p>Bobbi watches them for a few minutes, as May slowly rocks Daisy, before grabbing the aux cord and finding the playlist she had made years ago with Daisy in the bunks in Kuwait. She shuffled it and the slow strings of Songbird by Fleetwood Mac started playing from the car radio. Daisy always teased her for her Fleetwood Mac obsession but Bobbi knew that Daisy secretly loved it. </p><p>“Was it my fault?” Daisy’s voice is quiet and broken and breaks Bobbi’s heart in half. She turns back around. </p><p>“What?” May asks. </p><p>“I could have stopped it if I told them about HYDRA and Achilles and whatever else they wanted to know. Was it my fault?” Daisy says and it makes Bobbi wonder if that had what she’d thought the whole time. Was that really what she thought of herself? That she was to blame for her own torture and rape? </p><p>“No.” May says resolutely, turning Daisy to face her. “You protected dangerous information for over two years, Daisy. You were starved and tortured and raped and god knows what else and you didn’t break. It was not your fault, you hear me?” </p><p>Daisy like she can’t quite believe that but May gives her one of her stern glares that makes even Mack cower and Daisy nods. </p><p>“Say it, Daisy. It wasn’t your fault.” </p><p>“It wasn’t my fault.” Daisy whispers. It’s like it seems to hit her all at once, like they’ve flipped a switch and she finally realises just how wrong it all was. “It wasn’t my fault.” </p><p>“And don’t you forget it, Rockstar.” Bobbi added and Daisy smiled weakly at her. </p><p>“Fleetwood Mac?” She asked and Bobbi shrugged sheepishly. </p><p>“It’s that playlist we made in Kuwait.” </p><p>“We loved that thing.” Daisy says a little wistfully, still shaking slightly but a lot more calm than she was. May let’s her go and moves back to the front seat, but Bobbi gets out of the passenger seat and goes round to the back to sit next to Daisy. The younger girl grins and puts her head in Bobbi’s lap. </p><p>“You wanna stay the night?” Bobbi says quietly, running her fingers through Daisy’s hair. Daisy twisted her head to nod at Bobbi, pulling a fidget toy out of the pocket on the back of the seat and playing with it whilst Bobbi began braiding her hair. </p><p>“Shall we head home, ladies?” May asked and Bobbi nodded. “I’ll drop you home, you can do paperwork tomorrow.” </p><p>“Thanks May.” May gave her a small and rare smile in the mirror. </p><p>“Don’t mention it.” </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>August 30th, 2010, the day that it all began.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i’m very sorry for the break in uploads, but it should be a bit more regular for the last ten chapters </p><p>i like this chapter honestly, we get insight into kora and Daisy’s relationship and Bobbi and Daisy’s relationship takes a new step in the present day stuff ;) </p><p>WARNINGS: implied self harm(brief), mentions of death, mentions of terrorism, mentions of torture </p><p>anything else I need to tag pls let me know! </p><p>enjoy! -bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>August 30th, 2010 </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t have to do this, Zee.” Kora tells her little sister softly when they pull up to the enlistment centre in Kora’s beat up VW Beetle. “There’s still time to change your mind.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing is ever going to change if I don’t make it change, Ko. I don’t wanna stay in the military academy and I don’t want to go back to the orphanage and I could run awa y but this is the best option. I’ll actually do some good here.” Daisy says resolutely even though she’s terrified. This isn’t just a summer camp or the academy or a new foster home, this is the <em>literal army </em>and she could die any second.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But this is also her best shot at a good life. One where she was in control, where she made the  decisions. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You promise you’ll come back? That you won’t make some stupid sacrifice because you feel like you have to?” Kora asks, her voice taught like she’s about to cry. “We already lost Mom and Dad, we can’t lose each other too.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Daisy hushes her, “you are not going to lose me. I’m too stubborn to die you know that.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll still worry. You’re my baby sister, I’m allowed to be scared for you.” Kora says and Daisy rolls her eyes slightly, before turning fully to face her sister. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t promise I’ll be safe because it’s warzones I’ll be in, there’s no way I can know what’s out there. But I can promise that I’ll always try to come back home. That I won’t just give up because it would be easier than fighting. As long as you promise too.” Kora stares at her in confusion but Daisy nods to her arm, covered by a jacket even though it’s August in New York and there’s an almost stifling heat. “You left the razor in the trash can and I dropped my ring in there when I used the bathroom.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dais...it’s not- it’s not a big deal. It just- it helps.” Kora sighs heavily and rests her head on the seat back. “I’ll be okay.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ll be strong for each other, yeah? Just like in the orphanage and when Dad died.” It’s an age old promise between the sisters. One they made when their dad started staying out later and there was blood in his clothes and their mom started getting distant, even with Kora. It was fortified on the roof when the police told them their dad had been gunned down and again when they were dropped at St Agnes instead of going to the airport with their mom. They were each other’s protector, a safe place to land. Even separated, they were each other’s home. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They could make it through this like they made it through every other shitty thing that had happened to them. Johnson’s always made it through. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’d be proud of you, y’know. Dad, I mean.” Kora grinned when Daisy rolled her eyes. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean I loved him and all, but he was also a serial killer Ko.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And Mom’s a bioterrorist. We really won the genetic lottery didn’t we?” Daisy laughs and shoves Kora playfully. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You promise you’re gonna be okay? You’ll get help or whatever if you need it?” Daisy asks before she has to leave the safety of her sister’s old car and the protection of their bond. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have an appointment with a counsellor next week. I’ll be okay, Zee. And so will you.” Kora promises, making sure to look her sister in the eye. She smiles and hands Daisy her enlistment form and their dad’s old wedding ring. Daisy stares at it wide eyed and shakes her head. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t take it, Kora. I’ll lose it or it’ll get blown up or something. It’s better if you keep it.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are going to take it, Daisy Louise Johnson, because this is all we have left of him and that is going to keep you safe. You are going to march into those terrorist rings with your head held high and kick their asses. And you’re going to do it with our psycho father’s ring.” Kora protests and puts the ring in Daisy’s hand just in case she tried to leave without it. Daisy spins the cool metal in her hand, and then smiles and slides it on. It’s too big and almost falls off, before she puts it on her thumb instead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Johnson’s always make it through, right?” Daisy smiles widely at her sister before grabbing her bag from the floor and hugging Kora one last time. “I love you, mei mei.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You too, bǎo bɑo. Come home safe.” Kora squeezes Daisy tightly and kisses her on the forehead before letting her go. Daisy smiles sadly and opens the car door, squeezing Kora’s hand one last time before getting out and shutting the door. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She waves as Kora pulls away and heads into the enlistment centre. It’s bustling with teenagers not that much older than her, parents or friends saying goodbye, officers standing around waiting for the buses to arrive. Daisy sighs and heads over to the table to hand in her forms and get her training uniform. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She joins the queue for the uniforms and a tall blonde girl and shorter brunette guy turn around to her. She gives them a grin, the blonde is cute and the guy looks like fun. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“First time?” The blonde asks, Daisy nods. The girl smiles softly and Daisy practically melts into a gay puddle. The blonde is nice as well as hot. “I’m Bobbi Morse.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bobbi as in Robert?” Wouldn’t be the weirdest name she’d heard, she was in an orphanage after all. The guy laughs loudly. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She wishes. It’s Barbara, actually.” He snorts at her withering glare. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, <em>Lance.</em>” She says sarcastically and Daisy chuckles at them. They were dating already, or had dated and were now those constantly fighting friends/exes.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”What about you, sweetheart?” Lance asks her, and she suddenly realises he has an English accent. “Also call me Hunter.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m Daisy Johnson. So is this your second time doing this or something?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No it’s our first too.” Bobbi answers. “I was meant to go to Georgetown, but <em>someone</em> convinced me the army was the way to go instead.” Much older than Daisy then, if she had colleges lined up. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey! All I said was that the army might be more fun than a football scholarship or something. It’s not my fault you were drunk and decided to join me.” Hunter defended and Daisy laughed at their antics. She hoped they were in her training group. <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, is this the line for uniforms?” A girl about Daisy’s age asks. Daisy nods and leans aside to let her see the guy handing out the camo kit bags. The brunette girl sighs in relief. “Oh, I’m Kara, by the way. Kara Palamas.” <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Welcome to the gang.” Hunter grins. “I’m Hunter, this is Bobbi, and that’s Daisy. I think we’re gonna be great friends.” <br/><br/><br/></span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p class="p1">It wasn’t supposed to happen. </p><p class="p1">Not this way, at least. </p><p class="p1">Bobbi rolls over in the morning after New Years, her head pounding and the room smelling of sex and last night’s vodka and cokes. She groans and feels around her bedside cabinet for her phone. Instead of the table, she meets a warm body and suddenly, she’s wide awake and shooting up. </p><p class="p1">“Hey...what’s up?” Daisy’s groggy voice greets her, Bobbi sighs.</p><p class="p1">“Hey Rockstar.” Bobbi smiles at the younger woman and leans back against the pillows. Daisy smells like coconut and hairspray, faint memories of soft skin, drunken giggles, kisses that tasted of alcohol and the past. “Guess we finally got round to it, huh?” </p><p class="p1">“Do you regret it?” Daisy asks tentatively, running a hand through her sleep mused hair and leaning up on her elbow. </p><p class="p1">“No.” Bobbi says resolutely. “It’s not the way I expected it to happen, but it happened. Do you regret it?” </p><p class="p1">“No...” </p><p class="p1">“But?” Bobbi presses, the words dying in Daisy’s mouth. The brunette looks away guiltily. Bobbi taps her forehead softly. “You can tell me, Rockstar.” </p><p class="p1">“But you deserve better.” Daisy whispers, her voice so soft Bobbi almost misses what she says. But when she realises what Daisy has said, she sits up fully, pulling the sheet up with her. </p><p class="p1">“Dais...” </p><p class="p1">“No, Bobbi.” Daisy cuts her off, getting out of the bed and finding her clothes on the floor. Bobbi sits stock still, frozen by the sudden turn of events. “You deserve better than me and I don’t want to hurt you.” </p><p class="p1">“What the hell are you talking about? “I deserve better”? Daisy, why don’t you want to try again?” Bobbi asks and Daisy stops her movements, exhales and pulls off the shirt she was just putting on. She turns to fully face Bobbi, and holds out her arms, unveiling her scarred body, that Bobbi can see fully in the light of day. The soft pink lines mar her skin, the permanent rings of white like bracelets on her wrists, the burn marks from bombs, the tattoos that Kara gave them, harsh lines crossing her torso from torture sessions in Iraq, old bullet wounds, many of which Bobbi pulled out herself, the rib cage which is still a bit too prominent from the lack of food for two years. All the marks and damage and wounds make up Daisy’s very being, all the things that show how far she’s come, that she’s still alive. Bobbi looks at her confusedly and reached out to trace Daisy’s burn scars. “Talk to me.” </p><p class="p1">“I’m messed up Bobbi. I’m scared to try again because my dad killed 12 people and my mom is in fucking prison for terrorism and my sister slit her wrists. Because we had something so fucking good and then you disappeared and I didn’t even know if you were alive. Because I was held in a basement for two fucking years and tortured and raped and starved and the only thing that got me through was thinking that I would find you when I got out. I’m messed up Bobbi, and you deserve better.” A slow tear falls from Daisy’s eye and Bobbi kneels up in her bed and wipe it away. She rests her head against Daisy’s and slowly encircles the girl with her arms, holding her close. </p><p class="p1">“Zee, you survived all the bullshit we went through, and even more. I can’t begin to imagine how much pain you’re in from what happened in Iraq, but I can tell you that I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave because you’ve got trauma, or because you think you’re not enough, or that you’re damaged. I think you’re perfect, Daisy. I think that you’re tough and kind and brave and that you make me feel safe. I think your scars just show that you’ve survived, that you went through hell and walked through the other side. I think that I still love you as much as I did in 2014, or 2013, or Taiwan or Bahrain or Florida or New York. I know it’s scary, but we can work it out, okay?” </p><p class="p1">Daisy stares at her for a long moment, the air between them charged with electricity. She shakes in Bobbi’s arms before nodding and leaning forward to catch Bobbi’s lips with her own. Bobbi surges into the kiss, both of them hungry and desperate and <em>happy </em>because this felt right. It felt safe and warm and like coming home when you’ve been on the cold for so long. It was every warm sweater and hot chocolate on cold mornings and every smile in the locker room and every bandage wrapped back in the army and it was <em>perfect. </em></p><p class="p1"><em>“</em>I’m sorry for taking so long.” Daisy whispered when they broke for air. She smiled and kissed Bobbi again and it was like all the stars in the sky has suddenly dropped to earth and surrounded them in starlight, or like the early morning dew on a summer day, or when the sun shines after a rainstorm and the light reflects like crystals. It made Bobbi believe in the stupid metaphors about love from her high school English class. It made her want to cry and laugh and smile and sing all at the same time and it was confusing and messy but it was everything. </p><p class="p1">“We just needed a little time. And we’ve still got time. We can work this out, Rockstar.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Ricochet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>How Daisy got kidnapped and the moment everything changes again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i’m so very sorry about the delay in updates, school got nuts and then i started other stuff lmfao so i’m incredibly sorry </p><p>this isn’t a good update but i promise that there’s more coming in the next week or so </p><p>thank you if you’re still sticking with this btw! i appreciate every single reader and i hope everyone is doing well! </p><p>WARNINGS: mentions of minor character death, kidnappings, violence, GSWs </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>December 27th, 2015 </strong>
</p><p>The plan was shit from the very beginning. There wasn’t enough of them left in their division to successfully carry out a plan like this. Bobbi and Hunter were gone, Trip was dead, Vic and Izzy were gone after an IUD took Izzy’s hand and nearly killed Vic. They were down to Daisy, Kara, Lincoln and some randoms that had been added to their division but didn’t feel right. They hadn’t been there in Bahrain or Kuwait or Afghanistan, they hadn’t been through everything Daisy, Kara and Lincoln had. </p><p>Daisy thinks it was the inexperience of the other soldiers that got them into this in the first place, but in reality, their commanders had set them up for failure. They were supposed to sneak over the ridge and into the compound that this new group, MIDAS, (who named these places?) and get hostages out. </p><p>It was supposed to be a simple mission. Daisy and Kara would enter whilst Lincoln and new recruits, Tess and Virgil, would create a distraction. Riddel and Samson would wait with the truck to get the hostages out when Daisy and Kara freed them. Done and dusted by dinner time, hopefully. </p><p>Their first problem comes when there’s ten times the guards than predicted, all in heavy tactical suits and stone set faces that made Daisy’s stomach roll. </p><p>“I’ve got a really bad feeling about this, Kara.” Daisy whispered before they set off across the sharp ridge. Kara nodded and worry set across her features in the harsh sun, the sand slippery beneath their feet. They were still fucking recovering from Kuwait last year and Sudan earlier this year and a brief stint in Egypt. Their division was in no shape to fight off MIDAS if this went badly. </p><p>Their second problem comes when Lincoln, Tess and Virgil set off the distraction explosion too soon, Kara and Daisy hadn’t even gotten across the ridge yet. Everyone in the area scrambled, MIDAS soldiers running in the direction of the explosion, Kara and Daisy down to the compound. </p><p>It’s plain sailing from there, they get in, they free the hostages, and they’re nearly at the exit, the hostages already running toward the truck when of course, it all gets fucked up. </p><p>A shot runs out first, then Kara’s sharp gasp. Daisy stopped, making sure the hostages were still running and turned to Kara. Blood was flowing from her thigh, she had crumpled on the floor. </p><p>“We can’t stop, Palamas, come on, you’re okay.” Daisy frantically soothed, pulling Kara back to her feet, and pulling her toward the exit. Bullets followed them, ricochetting off the metal walls, narrowly missing their heads every time. Daisy felt a sharp heat in her shoulder. It burned like fucking hell but she kept going, half dragging Kara with her. </p><p>They can see the daylight from the door, it’s so close they can touch the cold metal door when it suddenly slams forcing them back. An evil smirk greets them, the leader of MIDAS Daisy knows from her scours for the organisation.</p><p>Nathaniel Malick, Whitehall’s protege, HYDRA lineage, murdered tens of people. Specialised in human experimentation and torture. Enjoyed pushing people to their limits for information. Hated his family, loved their evil ways. Pretentious and selfish and narcissistic and all round douchebag. Daisy fights to keep her stomach contents down, the images of his experimentation and torture on prisoners flashing in her head. </p><p>“I’ve been looking for you for a while now, Daisy Johnson.” His voice is like a snake, slithering round her head and dripping poison. She shifts and tries not to drop Kara who is near passing out from blood loss. Daisy’s starting to feel the effects of her own GSW too, the room spinning a bit. </p><p>“Well you’ve met me now, so your search has come to an end. Congratulations.” Daisy bit out and he laughed, a cruel sound that rang like Whitehall’s before they blew him up. The glint in his eye reminds Daisy of her dad, when he came home and her and Kora would sit watching TV to drown out the sounds of their parents arguing. </p><p>“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? I like breaking the strong ones. Watching the fight drain out of them, it’s like ecstasy.” He says and Kara nearly drops, her face pale and sweaty with the exertion to stay awake and alert. “She’s not looking too good, Miss Johnson.” </p><p>“Really? Hadn’t noticed.” Sarcasm had gotten her this far in life, it could keep working now. </p><p>“How about this, I’ll strike you deal.” He waist for her head tilt and decides that’s consent enough to propose his idea. “I’ll let her go and keep you. Your life for hers.” </p><p>“<em>Daisy...no...” </em>Kara whispers, her voice broken and tired. Daisy looks at her, at the blood flowing from her thigh, at the light cast over the sand dunes outside. Kara could be free, get the division together and come back for her. The hostages would be free and the mission would be complete. Daisy knew she was a soldier first and a person last, if she had to sacrifice herself then that’s what she had to. </p><p>It wasn’t like there was anything to miss her except Kara and Lincoln. Kora was dead, her dad was dead, Bobbi and Hunter were probably dead or MIA, Vic and Izzy were gone, Trip was dead. It falls on her shoulders like dead weight suddenly, her wound burning like someone stuck a hot poker into it.</p><p>She’s alone, no one left to miss her. Kara and Lincoln, maybe, but they still had each other. They’d be fine. </p><p>“You let the hostages and my division go free too.” Daisy said, praying her voice didn’t waver. Kara gripped her hand like her life depended on it, trying to communicate not to do this, but Daisy isn’t listening. She’s already made her decision, agreeing to be kidnapped basically. The others would be safe and that was what mattered. </p><p>“Deal.” Malick smiled, nodding to his guards. They moved suddenly, grabbing Daisy and Kara and separating them. One of them put his hands directly on Daisy’s wound and she bit her cheek to keep from crying out. They’d already kidnapped her, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her in pain too. She was already regretting this, but she knew she had to do it. </p><p>Soldier before person. Soldier before person. Soldier before person. </p><p>Maybe if she repeats it enough she’ll start to believe it. </p><p>“We- we’ll co- come b-back.” Kara stutters out, a promise Daisy can feel won’t be upheld. Their commanders will let them try once, maybe twice, before leaving her behind for another mission. Daisy tries to give her a hopeful smile. </p><p>“Be safe, Kar, I’ll be fine.” It sounds empty even to her. They all know what Malick does to prisoners. </p><p>“Alright, that’s enough. Let her go.” Malick said, a look of boredom on his face. Kara’s eyes filled with tears, her breathing heavy with trying to stay upright and awake, her leg coated in blood. </p><p>“Don’t- break, Daisy. You’re strong.” Kara says, and Daisy nods, a silent promise between them forming. The guards lead Kara to the door and Daisy can’t see the truck or anything, just the empty dunes and the ash from the distraction bomb that went off too early. </p><p>“You’re going to make her walk?” Daisy exclaims, trying to escape the guards that keep a tight grip on her. Kara can barely stand never mind walk all the way back to camp. She’d bleed out first. “She’ll die out there you asshole!” </p><p>“The deal was that I let her and the others go. I never said anything about how she went free.” Malick smirks and Daisy lunges for him, punching him in the face, going for a second blow before she’s dragged away, kicking and screaming and the door opens and Kara is gone. </p><p>She’s gone. </p><p>Daisy is alone. </p><p>Kara’s blood stains the floor where she was dragged and jumped outside like an unwanted puppy. The guards drag her down the hall and all Daisy can see is Kara’s blood and her face pale from blood loss and god, how was she going to drag herself across the hot sand dunes? Did the hostages get out? Were Lincoln and Tess and Virgil okay? Hell, was she okay? She was getting dragged to god knows where with a fucking psychopath for who knows how long and- </p><p>They dump her down a set of stairs and she rolls to avoid injury. She lands on her back in a basement, there’s straw and hay and it reeks of damp. She looks up at the ceiling, seeing small cracks with sunlight streaming through. Underground, but outside. She’s dragged up again and they take her to the wall, sliding thick rope around her wrists, attaching her to the wall. Her shoulder burns like all hell, the world spins around her. </p><p>“I hope you like it here, you’re going to be here for quite a while, Daisy.” She hates the way he says her name, like he <em>owns </em>it, like he earned the right to her first name just by kidnapping her. She leans her head against the wall and takes deep breaths. </p><p>“Five stars.” She snarks. “Why did you even want me so badly?” </p><p>“Ah, that little stint you pulled with HYDRA led to a lot of repercussions with my family and all of our organisations in general. And when we went looking for information about what went wrong, all we found was your pretty little face. We know you have information Daisy. If you give it up now, we won’t have to hurt you as much.” </p><p>“Yeah...that’s not happening.” Daisy laughs, in spite of the pain it causes in her shoulder. Did he seriously think she was that weak? She dragged Bobbi and Hunter out of a burning building and went back for Trip’s body. She couldn’t go to her own sister’s funeral and went on mission like nothing was wrong the next day. Her dad was a fucking sociopath and her mom was a bioterrorist. She’d been shot and stabbed and blown up and nothing, <em>nothing </em>that this weasel-looking asshole could do would break her. </p><p>“We’ll see if you still think that in a week’s time.” </p><p>“I doubt it.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>“This case is driving me insane.” Hunter grumbled around a mouthful of taco. </p><p>“Swallow before you speak, babe.” Bobbi said, not even looking up from the case notes. It was the bodies with the stupid fucking symbols again, another two had popped up over the weekend. “I thought the English knew about etiquette.” </p><p>Etiquette goes out the window when we can’t work out these fucking symbols.” Hunter said. “I mean they could be anything and they could be nothing.” </p><p>“They look a little familiar though, right?” She asked him, turning the pages as if trying to place them. Something about the crudely carved body with twelve legs on the bodies ignited something in her memories but she couldn’t quite grasp the whole image. It was like looking at them through a smokescreen, warped and misshapen in her brain. </p><p>“Like HYDRA?” Hunter said, wiping his hands before taking the pages again. “You think it could be something like that again?” </p><p>“Ugh, don’t even put that thought into the universe, I don’t think I can’t deal with that again.” Bobbi groaned, but now that she thought about, the symbols did remind her of HYDRA’s trademark octopus. “Maybe a sub-section of HYDRA? A twin organisation?” </p><p>“They’re ramping up to something anyway.” Mack put in. “These are the seventh and eight bodies we’ve had in under six months.” </p><p>“And we’re no closer to finding out who they are.” Hunter sighed, leaning back in his chair. The door to the break room opened and a very disheveled Daisy stood in the doorway. “Daisy?” </p><p>Everyone turned to the girl in the doorway, tears running down her cheeks, her hands trembling so much it was a wonder that the phone she was holding hadn’t smashed on the floor. Bobbi stood up and went to her girlfriend, not touching her yet because it could be a panic attack or an anxiety attack and she didn’t want to scare Daisy. </p><p>“What’s wrong Zee?” Bobbi asked softly, Daisy lifted her eyes to meet Bobbi’s. </p><p>“K- Kara phoned. Lincoln, he’s- he’s dead.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Memorials</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A promise made in Sudan and the aftermath of Lincoln’s death with Kara.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oh this chapter is a bit of a mess but that seems to be a recurring theme for me so enjoy it i guess lmfao </p><p>much angst, much sad, much pain, i’m incredibly sorry </p><p>kind of a shorter chapter too, but the next few are 0-100 so yknow be prepared i guess lol </p><p>WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, guilt </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>March 12th, 2015 </strong>
</p><p><em>”Daisy wake up!”</em> Daisy jolts awake, Kara backing away from her bed whilst she tried to bring herself back to the present. Her lungs burned like they were being deprived of oxygen again, her hands burning where she’d dragged Trip’s body out of that compound. She fights to catch her breath, heaving through unwilling lungs until finally, she brings herself back from Kuwait and into the present of Sudan. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” She asks once she’s woken back up, squinting through the darkness at Kara. </p><p>“You were screaming.” Kara says softly. Daisy looks away guiltily. She thought she’d stopped that. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” She says eventually, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I thought I’d stopped doing that.” </p><p>“It’s okay, Zee.” Kara smiles sadly. “Come on, put your boots on. We’re going for a walk.” </p><p>“You should sleep, KP.” Daisy tries but Kara just hands her her boots adamantly. </p><p>“Nope, come on, angel. Trauma walk.” </p><p>“I hate you sometimes.” Daisy says fondly. </p><hr/><p>They walk around the bunks to the edge of camp. It’s quiet out here for once, they’ve been non-stop since they got here four months ago, constancy fighting or planning or training. It’s endless and it’s exhausting and Daisy wishes she just had some time to process what happened in Kuwait. </p><p>“We’re you dreaming about Kuwait again?” Kara asks once they’ve walked in the silence for a long time, making it once around the edge of camp and starting the loop again. Daisy let’s out a long sigh and focuses on avoiding the cracks in the ground they step on. </p><p>“If I knew they were alive then I could sleep better.” Daisy says and Kara nods. “How did it all go so wrong so fast, KP? First Izzy and Vic, then Trip and Bobbi <em>and </em>Hunter?” </p><p>“I don’t know, Dee.” Kara says honestly. She’s tried to work it out, broke down both of those missions bit by bit to figure out what went wrong, who was to blame, how they could stopped it but it’s pointless. They can’t change any of it. Questions like that wouldn’t save Izzy’s hand and stop her and Vic from leaving and they wouldn’t stop Trip from dying or bring back Bobbi and Hunter. “But we’re still here, so that has to count for something.” </p><p>“I miss them. I miss <em>her.” </em></p><p>“We can’t save everyone, Dee.” Kara says, carefully putting an arm around her best friend. Daisy gripped her hand and they walked like that for a long time, around and around the edge of camp, holding each other until the sun came up. In the span of four years they’d gone from a division of eight, building a family and a home and a safe place to land, to three, the remnants of three broken people. </p><p>It ached in their very souls, the loneliness creeping in every now and then even when they were surrounded by the new temporary recruits before they found permanent replacements. </p><p>They couldn’t bring their people back and they had to keep moving, keep fighting, keep surviving or they’d drown. </p><p>It’d be easier if it didn’t hurt so goddamn much. </p><p>“Hey, KP?” </p><p>“Yeah, Dais?” </p><p>“Promise me something?” Kara turns to face Daisy in the early morning sunlight, both of their eyes dark and shadowed by ghosts. They’re so young, but they look so old and neither of them can pinpoint when that happened. </p><p>“Anything, Daisy.” </p><p>“Promise that we’ll stay together as much as we can control. We stick together as long as we’re in the forces.” Kara smiles and lens her head against her best friends. </p><p>“I promise.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>“I’m in love with your dog, Zee.” Kara announced from where she was sat on Daisy’s couch, Cassie’s head in her lap. Daisy smiled from the kitchen where she was grabbing drinks. </p><p>“She’s my baby and the only reason I was living until like, a month ago.” Daisy says, moving back to the couch with a bottle of vodka and glasses. </p><p>“You know we have work tomorrow, babe.” Bobbi said, accepting a glass anyway. </p><p>“We have a drink for people who die.” Kara reminds her, eyes misting slightly before she blinked the tears away. It had barely been 48 hours since she found Lincoln’s body, she hadn’t quite processed the trauma of it yet. </p><p>“You still do that?” Bobbi asked. </p><p>“Yep.” Daisy said, screwing the cap back on the bottle once she’d poured the vodka. </p><p>“Did you have one for me and Hunter?” </p><p>“Lincoln did.” Kara admits quietly, like it will harm his memory. “He said it made him feel better.” </p><p>“It was easier to think you were dead because it meant you didn’t abandon us too.” Daisy says bluntly. She drains her glass and clutches the glass so hard it’s a wonder it doesn’t smash. “Sorry, we just- we were the only ones left.” </p><p>“But you aren’t dead.” Kara says to Bobbi. “And he is.” </p><p>“Do they know who shot him yet?” Bobbi asks because they all know how empty “I’m sorry” is when you’ve just lost someone. </p><p>“He only went into the morgue yesterday, they haven’t even started looking for suspects.” Kara told them, taking a long drink of her vodka. She takes a minute to try and compose her thoughts but ends up whispering. “I’ve never seen so much blood.” </p><p>“Was it quick at least?” Daisy asks gently, moving closer to Kara. Cassie moves to accommodate her owner, shifting to let Daisy sit next to Kara. They don’t touch, but her proximity is a comfort to Kara. </p><p>“They shot him in the head. He wouldn’t even have seen it coming, he wouldn’t have felt anything.” Kara says, tears beginning to fall. She runs her fingers through Cassie’s soft fur, making patterns with her fingers to stop her hands from shaking. “He- we were supposed to come see you. I was going to pick him up and we were going to surprise you. We were going to talk about Iraq, he wanted to apologise...<em>I </em>want to apologise.” </p><p>“You don’t have to, I never blamed you for that-“ </p><p>“Please let me Daisy.” Kara practically begs, her eyes desperate and exhausted. Daisy’s own eyes filling with tears. Bobbi placed a hand gently on her arm, just reminding her that she was there. Daisy reached back to grab onto Bobbi too, her grip strong and needed. </p><p>“You would have died there, KP. I’m not letting you apologise for keeping yourself alive.” Daisy says, her voice taught like she’s holding her breath. Bobbi squeezes her hand a little tighter and Cassie bumps her hand with her nose, reminding her to breathe. </p><p>“You nearly <em>died </em>Daisy. You were there for <em>two years </em>and they did god knows what to you, and I was the one who left you there!” Kara counters, tears steadily rolling down her face. Daisy opens her mouth to argue but Kara isn’t finished, the stress of the past 48 hours all catching up at once. “We <em>promised </em>after Kuwait that we would stick together and I left you to die! We let you get tortured for two years and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Daisy.” </p><p>Kara dissolves into sobs, mumbling “sorry” over and over again. Daisy looked at her girlfriend in shock for a minute before turning back to her best friend and gathering her into her arms. Kara grabbed onto Daisy and sobbed for all she was worth into her shoulder. Cassie got off their laps and moved to lie beside Bobbi instead. </p><p>“He-he-he was going to p-propose t-t-to Eva.” Kara cried, shaking with the force of her sobs. Daisy started running her fingers through Kara’s hair, humming a soft lullaby she vaguely remembered Kora singing to her in the orphanage after the first foster home that Daisy was sent to without her sister. “He was d-doing so- so well.” </p><p>“I know, Kara, I know.” Daisy whispered, and she knew her words were empty because it <em>wasn’t </em>okay at all. Lincoln was dead, shot in his own home even after escaping the horrors they saw in the Middle East only for it to follow for him home. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” </p><p>“I’m sorry too.” Kara sobbed, clutching Daisy closer to her. “I’m sorry for all of it. We didn’t want to leave you, we didn’t want you to get hurt. But you did and I’m so fucking sorry.” </p><p>“You’re forgiven, it’s okay. I don’t blame you, it’s okay. You’re okay, Kara, it’s okay now.” Daisy keeps saying it like she repeats her mantra to herself when she got panicked, over and over into Kara’s hair. It seems to soothe her, like the lullaby did. </p><p>“It’s all okay now.” Kara confirms, like taking a breath of fresh air. “He’s dead, but we’re still here and that fucking sucks but we can’t save everyone. We’re still here.” </p><p>“We’re still here.” Daisy agrees. </p><p>“And that’s good.” Bobbi adds, finally feeling like the air has calmed from the emotional charge it just went through. “We aren’t alone anymore.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>“How are you doing baby?” Bobbi asks quietly when they’ve all finally decided to go to bed. Daisy shrugs listlessly, pulling back the covers they’ve put on the couch, letting Kara take her bed because that made sense at the time. Cassie lies at their feet, sensing that she needed to be near her owner tonight. </p><p>“There’s so much that I don’t even know where to start.” </p><p>“Do you want me to stay?” </p><p>“Please.” Daisy says, looking incredibly young all of a sudden. Bobbi forgets that she’s only twenty-three. Twenty-three and traumatised, twenty- three and scarred, twenty-three and exhausted by life. It’s depressing. </p><p>“How long is Kara staying?” Bobbi asks instead of asking about Lincoln or Iraq or Kuwait. </p><p>“As long as she needs to. Her and Francesca broke up three months ago.” Daisy sighs tiredly, settling into the bed on the pullout couch. “Can we cuddle?” </p><p>“Like you need to ask.” Bobbi smiles. Daisy rolls her eyes fondly, making grabby hands at Bobbi, who slides in beside her. Cassie gets up and jumps on the end on the couch, clearly claiming her space. Daisy pets her for a long time before leaning back into her girlfriend. </p><p>“Hey Bobbi?” </p><p>“Yeah?” </p><p>“Thank you for still being alive.” Bobbi doesn’t really know what to say to that, so she holds Daisy closer and kisses her forehead. </p><p>“Sleep dorogaya, I’ll be here when you wake up.” Bobbi promises and Daisy’s eyes flutter in the light from the streetlamps outside her apartment. Bobbi kisses her forehead again. “You’re okay, just sleep.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Monsters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The day Daisy woke up after Iraq and a new issue in the present.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>that summary makes no sense what- </p><p>basically the flashback is right after Iraq, so when Daisy wakes up in hospital in Belgium and there’s some very new bad things going on in the present (hey plot you took your time) </p><p>lot of triggery stuff in here ngl i’m very sorry </p><p>WARNINGS: hospitals, medical stuff, mentions of torture, mentions and aftermath of rape, brief torture but it was in the past, kidnappings </p><p>once again, very sorry </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>January 6th, 2018 </strong>
</p><p>Daisy’s been in a medically induced coma for the past three days and Kara is beginning to wonder if she’s ever waking up. </p><p>They shouldn’t have left her, god, why did they leave her?</p><p>It doesn’t even look like her anymore, the girl in the bed is unrecognisable as her best friend. Her arms and torso are wrapped in crepe bandages, they have to wait until she’s awake to see if they can use skin grafts, but it wasn’t looking likely. She’s extremely underweight, her skin is deathly pale and the nurses said there was signs of sexual assault.</p><p>It’s too much for one person to go through, but the fact that it’s Daisy makes Kara feel sick. She’s twenty-two for fuck’s sake, how do you recover from something like this?</p><p>Lincoln shifts in his sleep on the uncomfortable plastic chairs they’ve been given, knocking her shoulder slightly. Kara combs her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him back to peaceful sleep as best as she can. The generals have already been by, they’ve given their notices and are being honourably discharged. Seven years of blinding heats and injuries and bombs and guns and tattoos and drinking and bunks and family and loss. Seven years, four months and twenty-seven days. </p><p>Not that she’s been counting. </p><p>Daisy’s heart monitor beeps steadily and the noise sends a phantom pain through the bucket hole in Kara’s thigh, the one she got that fateful day in Iraq. She’d dragged herself back to camp and been on injury leave for three months before going back to her division. She remembers the swaying vision and the trail of red she left on the dunes and Lincoln’s face when she got back and Daisy wasn’t there. She remembers arguing with the generals when she came back from leave because they refused to go back for Daisy. She remembers the silence on the other end of the phone when she told Vic and Izzy that Daisy was a POW, the generals weren’t going back for her and she was probably being tortured or dead. She remembers when they finally went back to Iraq and found that compound and suddenly it was exploding and- </p><p>“Bobbi...?” A groggy, confused voice suddenly rasped. Kara practically fell out of her seat, Lincoln woke up with a start. She was waking up! </p><p>“Daisy, hey, you’re okay. It’s okay now.” Kara frantically slammed the nurse call button, standing over Daisy’s bed, Lincoln at her side. Daisy looked around confusedly, eyes cloudy and unfocused. </p><p>“Kora?” She asked carefully, looking at Kara but not really seeing her. Kara shook her head and smiled sadly. The doctors said she might be confused for a while once she woke up. Medically induced comas did that, especially after extreme trauma like Daisy had suffered. </p><p>“It’s Kara...KP. You’re okay, it’s all okay now, angel.” Kara said softly, finding Daisy’s hand and squeezing gently. Daisy focused on her finally and a few tears leaked out of her eyes. Kara’s heart broke and she gripped Lincoln with her other hand. </p><p>“It’s- it’s over?” Daisy whispered, and Kara wasn’t even sure if she knew what she was talking about but Kara nodded anyway. Her own tears started falling and she stroked Daisy’s hair comfortingly. </p><p>“You’re safe, Dee. You’ve got a long recovery but you’re going to be okay.” The nurses started flooding in after that and Kara and Lincoln were ushered to the waiting room, but it didn’t matter. </p><p>Daisy was awake and alive. The rest could wait. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>“Hey, have you seen Daisy?” Bobbi asked Jemma as she walked into the morgue. It wasn’t often that Daisy hung out here because Jemma was the only one who could be around bodies for extended periods of time, but Bobbi had looked everywhere else and she couldn’t find her girlfriend. </p><p>It had only been a day since they found out Lincoln was dead and Kara had cried in Daisy’s arms. A new case had come in, but the symbol carvings on the body linked it to the other three cases that had gone cold. And there was evidence that had come in from Lincoln’s death, faxed over from the office in Cincinnati, that someone had painted the same symbols on the walls of Lincoln’s apartment in blood. </p><p>
  <em>Lincoln’s blood. </em>
</p><p>“Last I saw she was in the second break room.” Jemma said, relatively cheery for someone cutting open a human chest. </p><p>“I already checked there, but I’ll check again.” Bobbi sighed, she didn’t want Daisy to be alone right now, and they’d mostly stayed away from each other because they were working on different parts of the case. “Oh, heard you and Fitz had a date. How’d it go?” </p><p>“It was wonderful honestly. He took me to this little restaurant and we had dinner and went to the planetarium...I really like him Bobbi.” Jemma blushes adorably. “He kissed me when we saw Theta Serpentis in the planetarium.” </p><p>“That’s amazing!” Bobbi grinned. At least someone was having a good time. “You both deserve happiness Jemma. Don’t let it get away.” </p><p>“You and Daisy will be fine too.” Jemma says firmly, as if her seriousness will make it reality. When Jemma says it Bobbi can almost believe it, Simmons has never been wrong before. </p><p>“I’ll see you later okay?” </p><p>“Bye Bobbi.” </p><hr/><p>When she does find Daisy, she almost wishes she hadn’t. </p><p>Her girlfriend is mid-panic attack, crouched under a table in the second break room which explains why Bobbi couldn’t find her the first time she looked, a laptop pushed far away from her but her eyes are trained on it. </p><p>“Daisy?” Bobbi asks gently, kneeling beside her girlfriend but giving her space. Daisy looked around wildly, eyes unfocused and confused. Her hands came up to cover her face and Bobbi lightly grabbed her wrists before she hurt herself. Daisy flinched at the contact, trying to get away from whatever she was seeing. </p><p>“T-t-they-“ She can’t even speak without catching on her words. </p><p>“Hey, hey, Rockstar, it’s alright. Count with me, okay? Up in sevens like we used to, yeah?” Bobbi says softly, and Daisy nods shakily, but she nods so Bobbi smiles. “Okay. I’ll start alright?” </p><p>Daisy nods again so Bobbi starts counting and Daisy joins in at 58. They count for a long time, all the way up to 679, and Daisy’s breaths are slower and even, her eyes focused on Bobbi. </p><p>“I’m sorry this keeps happening.” Daisy says quietly, purposely avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry you keep having to do this.” </p><p>“Never apologise for having panic attacks, Rockstar. You went through a lot of trauma, it’s expected. Were you annoyed when I had one in the grocery store last week?” She wasn’t proud of that one. She got set off by a can or something falling and it felt like Kuwait all over again. It didn't happen as much as it did when they first came back from Kuwait, but they still happened. </p><p>“Of course not.” </p><p>“Then why do you think I would get mad at you?” Bobbi asked, bumping her shoulder, making Daisy smile. “Did anything happen to set it off?” </p><p>Daisy visibly tensed and her eyes fell to the laptop at her feet. She swallowed thickly and then whispered. “No one was supposed to see.” </p><p>“See what?” Bobbi asked confusedly, before sliding the laptop closer to her and opening the lid. A website popped up, some dark net streaming site Bobbi wouldn’t touch with a ten foot barge pole, but she knew Daisy had to sometimes to find suspects. Another video loaded, with 7.9k people watching it. It showed a dark room, lit by a single bulb shining over a chair with a girl in it- </p><p>“Is that-“</p><p>”Me? Yeah. Those bastards recorded everything that happened and they’re streaming it to the fucking public.” Daisy said in disgust, but her eyes revealed just how this affected her. A masked man slapped past Daisy across the cheek, his heavy ring cutting the skin open and Bobbi looked up at Daisy to find the scar from that very ring, a small white circle under her eye. She looked back down the video, where they were punching her girlfriend every time she stayed silent. </p><p>She wanted to throw up when they started poking her with raw, exposed wires. The sparks sting Daisy’s skin and her pained whimpers make Bobbi clutch her girlfriend a little tighter. She couldn’t protect her then but she can now. </p><p>“I’m so sorry, baby.” Bobbi whispers, pulling Daisy closer to her when she started letting the tears fall as she watched what was done to her. Daisy keeps her eyes on the laptop, trying to block out the sounds of her own torture, looking past her beaten body and her attackers to a symbol on the wall. </p><p>“Bobbi, look.” Daisy says suddenly, pulling out of her embrace and enlarging the video to show Bobbi the symbol. It was hard to look past Daisy’s exhausted and haunted eyes on the floor of the video but she saw that symbol, the same one being carved into the bodies that keep piling up. </p><p>“That’s the same one that was on Lincoln’s wall.” Was the one on the wall of that compound in Iraq they held Daisy in written with Daisy’s blood too? Bobbi wouldn’t put it past them.</p><p>”Why are they showing people this now? It happened a year ago, maybe more.” Daisy wondered, scrolling through the other videos uploaded that day. She was trying her best to repress the fact that it was her in those videos, difficult as it was, because whoever it was clearly was trying to send a message. But then she found the very first one they posted, one she’d missed. “Bobbi- they-“ </p><p>Daisy’s throat clammed up and she fought her gag reflex to keep whatever was in her stomach down. Bobbi looked from Daisy to the laptop and seen what caused her girlfriend such anguish. </p><p>Titled, “Christmas Day 2017”, it’s been shot from a security camera from some corner. It’s a basement, filled with hay and straw and in the middle, there’s a wall with a girl tied to the wall and a man on top of her....</p><p>“They posted my rape.” Daisy says with finality. She sounds so tired, so utterly done that Bobbi doesn’t know how Daisy is ever going to escape this. If it wasn’t the scars or the panic attacks or the nightmares, then people were posting it online. “They posted my goddamn <em>sexual assault </em>for all the fucking world to see!” </p><p>“We can get it taken down-“ </p><p>“That’s not how the internet works and you know it Bobbi. Once you post something, it’s out there forever.” Daisy sighs dejectedly. It feels more violating than the act itself because at least she could keep that from people. The only people that knew were her, Bobbi, May and Kara and that was it. Now, the whole world could know by accessing the right sites and that was <em>terrifying. </em>“At least we know who was killing those people and carving the bodies though.” </p><p>“The same people that took you.” Bobbi wanted to push Daisy on her real feelings about the whole situation, but she didn’t think it was the best idea considering Daisy had a panic attack over just seeing the videos. “SCYLLA.” </p><p>“God what is it with these people and Greek names?” Daisy laughed, raking a hand through her hair. The whole situation felt like a bad dream, like she’d wake up any minute on the couch with Bobbi and it would all be okay. But the stark cold floor and the still running videos on the laptops told her it was all reality. “I think I’m gonna head home. Grab a shower before we meet Vic and Izzy for dinner. Is that okay?” </p><p>“Of course it is, baby.” Bobbi said, leaning her forehead against Daisy’s for a minute to try and decompress everything they had just seen. Daisy exhaled shakily and blinked back a few tears. Bobbi kissed her forehead and slid out from under the table, offering Daisy her hand. Daisy sighed and finally closed the laptop, using Bobbi’s hand to pull herself up. </p><p>“You have to tell the others, don’t you?” </p><p>“I don’t have to show them what’s in those videos, Dee.” </p><p>“They’re going to find out eventually.” Daisy practically whispered, holding tight to Bobbi’s hand, the only thing grounding her right now. “Just don’t show them the first one.” </p><p>“I won’t, I promise.” </p><p>“Cross your heart?” </p><p>“Stick a needle in my eye.” Bobbi says because they’ve all coke too close to death to say the other part. </p><p>God that was depressing. </p><p>“I’ll meet you at the restaurant with Kara, okay?” Daisy said, collecting her water bottle and keys from the table she had been working at before ending up under said table. </p><p>“Be careful, we don’t know what could happen now.” Daisy nodded and Bobbi kissed her before she left. “I love you.” </p><p>And Daisy wants to say it back, but it feels like signing a death warrant. Everyone she has told she loves has died. Her dad, Kora, even Trip, though that was a more friendly way. She can’t lose Bobbi again, she’d give her own life if Bobbi could live safely. Instead she nods and kisses her girlfriend again. putting all the words she can’t say into that kiss. </p><p>“See you later.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Bobbi doesn’t see her later. </p><p>Kara and Daisy never turned up to the restaurant. </p><p>There were signs of struggle at Daisy’s apartment, (Cassie had been at doggy day care), shot in windows and broken furniture and doors. </p><p>The SCYLLA symbol is painted on Daisy’s wall in dark blood. </p><p>They don’t know who’s it is, but it’s not enough to kill someone. </p><p>Bobbi had been sent home until tomorrow, she was too close to Daisy and Kara at the minute to be objective. Vic and Izzy and Hunter all stayed with her too, after Mack saw her beating up a punch bag in the gym at HQ at four in the morning after working all night. Vic and Izzy had only gotten into town a few hours ago after driving down after hearing about Lincoln. </p><p>Guess they were getting their reunion after all.</p><p>Cassie sits in her lap, whining softly every now and then because her owner is missing and she knows Daisy’s routine. Bobbi strokes patterns in her fur absentmindedly, tears running silently down her face. </p><p>“We’re going to find her.” She whispered to the dog, a promise to herself too. “We are not giving up this time. We’ll bring her home.” </p><p>And Bobbi means it. She will go to the ends of the earth to find the girl she loves. She will find whoever took her and make them pay for what they’ve done, <em>again. </em></p><p>This won’t break them. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh no not a cliffhanger! </p><p>next chapter either tomorrow or the next day i promise! </p><p>let me know what you think of this though if you feel inclined :) </p><p>once again very sorry</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Exposed Wires</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Why do SCYLLA want Daisy and Kara in the first place?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i’ll put everyone’s minds at ease, no one else dies and the kidnapping doesn’t last too long i promise </p><p>WARNINGS: kidnappings, whitehall being a creepy bastard, mentions of nukes, mentions of torture, allusions to torture</p><p>we also find out why SCYLLA had Daisy for so long so that’s fun i guess </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>“We have got to stop getting kidnapped.” Daisy groans as a dull ache sets in her head where she was whacked to knock her out. </p><p>“This is my first time thank you very much.” Kara says, holding a hand over her arm where they slashed it open when the masked figures broke into Daisy’s apartment. </p><p>“Where are we?” Daisy asks, pulling herself into a sitting position. Her stomach lurches as she spots the ropes on her wrists, fighting back memories of Iraq, even though she had to relive it when she found that stupid goddamn streaming site. There’s at least windows in this room, so it’s not a basement. Thank god for small miracles. </p><p>“Not a clue.” Kara says dejectedly. “We didn’t drive that long though.” </p><p>“Are you okay?” Daisy winces at her own words because how the hell could Kara be okay right now? She’d been kidnapped and slashed after her best friend had been shot and she found the body. “Did they hurt you?” </p><p>“Not really.” Kara reassures her. She peels her hand away from the knife wound, it isn’t as bad as Daisy thought originally. It’ll scar but it isn’t life threatening. “You?” </p><p>“My head is killing me but I guess that happens after getting whacked with a floorboard.” Daisy deadpans. She looks around the room again, trying to concentrate on details. The SCYLLA symbol is painted on the wall, in black instead of red so it can’t be blood this time. “At least we know who took us.” </p><p>“Why, though? We aren’t in the army anymore, we don’t know anything about new missions or whatever, we haven’t released any information about the shit they were doing in HYDRA, Achilles or SCYLLA.” Kara asks. </p><p>“Might just be revenge.” Daisy says quietly. Currently she’s trying to stave off a panic attack and throwing up because she’s been here before and she knows how this works. If they don’t do what SCYLLA want then they’ll be tortured, raped, killed maybe. Her nights are haunted by ghosts from Iraq and her days are filled with avoiding triggers, she’s exhausted and she thought it was over. She thought she finally had a shot at happiness, she’d repaired her relationship with Bobbi, had good friends and a great job, she was working through her issues...she was doing so well. </p><p>But the universe has it in for her at this point, so of course it had to get all fucked up. </p><p>It shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does. </p><p>“They couldn’t take it out in the government like normal people?” Kara snarks, leaning against the wall tiredly. She clenches her fists to stop them shaking, but it doesn’t help. She’s terrified, she knows what they did to Daisy for two years, knows the trauma that it inflicted to her best friend. She hasn’t even processed Lincoln yet and now she’s been fucking kidnapped. </p><p>“What would be the fun in that?” A door opens and <em>Daniel fucking Whitehall </em>walks through. </p><p>“Oh you have to be shitting me.” Daisy laughs. It’s a little hysterical but so is the entire situation. “You’re supposed to be dead.” </p><p>“I’ll admit it was touch and go for a long time after you blew me up, but SCYLLA can truly work wonders.” He smiles and it’s the same smile he gave her in Afghanistan, all teeth and lies and poison. “I suppose I should tell you why you’re here.” </p><p>“That would be lovely.” Kara spits. </p><p>“Your little division seemed determined to blow up every plan and compound we had in the Middle East, so we thought we’d bring the party to your home turf-“ </p><p>“That doesn’t explain why you need us.” Daisy knows SCYLLA have a weird habit of speaking in riddles so better to cut to the chase. </p><p>“Patience, little one, I’m getting there.” Her stomach rolls again because that’s what Kora used to call her and that’s just fucking gross, like he’s spitting on her memory. “We know you hid that flash drive you took from Achilles in Afghanistan. We know that you know what’s on it, and we know that young Malick cousins get the information out of you. We need that information before we can start preparations.” </p><p>So that’s what all of this was for. That stupid flash drive that Daisy hid in a lock box with their dad’s ring and Kora’s phone that has the last video they ever took together, it’s just them singing Taylor Swift very off-key, but it’s all she really has left of the person her sister became. The lock box was in Milwaukee, where she was born, but the key was in a different safe in New York, where her orphanage was, and the code for <em>that </em>safe was in Daisy’s head. She’d gone to extreme lengths to protect that flash drive, entrusted to her by their commanders, and she wouldn’t destroying that now. </p><p>The flash drive was full of designs for a nuclear warhead, a giant container of uranium-235 and plutonium-239 that would sent into the atmosphere to drop over the earth and destroy half the planet, maybe more. SCYLLA, Achilles and HYDRA were very into “pure races” and survival of the fittest and bullshit like that, so they thought by killing billions with their warhead they could build a new society of the strongest humans led by their extreme regime. </p><p>It the dumbest plan Daisy had ever heard, but all three groups, largely combined into SCYLLA, were die hard devout to the idea. </p><p>“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Daisy smirked. Whitehall shook his head almost fondly. </p><p>“We have ways of making you talk-“</p><p>“You used those “ways” for two years and I didn’t tell you. What makes you think this time will be different?” Daisy counters, staring him down. </p><p>“We didn’t have Miss Palamas last time.” He laughs a little, like it’s funny or something and Daisy’s mouth goes dry when Kara looks at her in fear. She shakes her head slightly, she won’t let that happen. </p><p>“No.” Daisy says, keeping her voice steady even if her hands starts shaking again with anxiety. </p><p>“No?” </p><p>“Do what you like to me, but don’t touch her.” Daisy knows she sounds like she’s begging and that’s because she is. She won’t let Kara get hurt for information she knows practically nothing about. Daisy can take it. She <em>will</em> take it. “Please, don’t touch her.” </p><p>“Daisy, don’t. You don’t have to protect me-“ </p><p>“Touch her and I’ll cut my own tongue out.” Daisy cuts her off, turning back to Whitehall. She’s the only one with the code to the safe, who knows where in New York the safe is, where in Milwaukee to find that lock box. They need her and they need her able to speak. “And then you’ll never know.” </p><p>“I’m sure we could get you to write it down.” But she knows he’s considering it. </p><p>“Then I’ll get rid of my hands too. Touch Kara and you’ll never know where that flash drive is.” The designer of the warhead is dead and they can’t quite replicate it to the scale they need for their plan, which is why the flash drive is so important. Daisy knows this is the only leverage she has and she’ll use it if she can protect Kara. </p><p>“It’s a shame you’re on the other side of this war, Miss Johnson. That loyalty would have gotten you far in SCYLLA.” Whitehall sighs, adjusts his glasses and smiles again. That stupid smile that haunts Daisy nightmares like a ghost. “Alright, Daisy, you’ve got a deal. We’ll leave her alone.” </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>“But she has to listen to every single thing we do to you.” He says and Kara turns a worrying shade of white, all the colour draining out of her at the prospect of hearing Daisy get tortured. “You have a week to talk. If you don’t by the end of the week, we start on Miss Palamas.” </p><p>“Fine.” Daisy sighs, avoiding Kara’s eyes because she doesn’t want to see the fear or disappointment or anger there. Whitehall crosses to Daisy and bends down to put a finger under her chin. He tilts her head up to look him directly in the eyes and she fights the urge to spit in his face.</p><p>“I’m looking forward to the day you break my dear Daisy. You’ve been strong for so long now, wouldn’t it be nice to let go?” His voice is smooth like the skin of a snake, dangerous and deadly. </p><p>“I’ll never break.” She whispers resolutely, the same mantra she used in Iraq, something she never thought she’d use again. </p><p>“Alright, Daisy. I’ll see you in our first session.” He strokes her cheeks and she again, fights the urge to throw up or spit in his face. It feels so <em>wrong, </em>so violating, like her skin is on fire beneath his fingertips. Only Bobbi can touch her that way, everyone else lost the right to when she was tortured for two years. For him to do it feels like a betrayal, though logically she knows that isn’t true. She just wants him off and away, far away in a grave. </p><p>“Why on earth would you do that?” Kara exclaims when he’s left, the door slamming shut behind him. Daisy exhales slowly and looks back to her best friend.</p><p>“Because what they would do to you isn’t something you recover from, KP. It changes you, turns you into something you hate.”</p><p>“I can handle it!” Kara shouts, an angry flush filling her face.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have to!” Daisy shouts back, tears springing to her eyes. “I’ve done this before Kara, I know how to deal with it.” </p><p>“That’s why you should have let me take it this time. I let you down before, but you don’t have to go through it this time.” Kara says. She isn’t bound to the wall so she walks over to Daisy, sitting next to her and holding her hand as tightly as she can. When they’re this close, she can feel the anxiety rolling off Daisy like tidal waves, the way her hands shake and her body is tense. The anticipation is killing them. </p><p>“I’d never forgive myself if I let you get hurt, KP. It’s my fault we’re here, I’m not letting you get hurt because of it.” Daisy says firmly, stubbornly blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. She would stay strong and she <em>would not break. </em></p><p>“You aren’t alone in this anymore, Dee.” Kara whispers. “This isn’t Iraq.” </p><p>“No, it’s worse this time.” Daisy says. “Home is supposed to be safe. The war is supposed to end when you come back, but they followed me here. Iraq followed me home.” </p><p>“We’ll beat them this time. Bobbi and Hunter and Vic and Izzy and your team will find us, we’ll destroy that flash drive and everything will be okay.” Kara says, trying for optimism. Daisy turns to her suddenly at the mention of the flash drive, gripping onto her hand. </p><p>“Promise me you’ll destroy that thing if I don’t make it out of here.” </p><p>“What? Of course you’re making it out of here don’t be dumb-“ </p><p>“I mean it Kara, promise me you’ll destroy it.” Daisy is dead serious and Kara feels a churning in her gut, slow dread creeping in as realisation hits.</p><p>They might not make it out of here. </p><p>“I promise.” She tells Daisy and she means it. “But we are making it out alive.” </p><p>“Alright ladies.” The door opens again and Whitehall and Malick stand there, smug as anything. There’s guards behind them with an rolling table,  bunch of tools lie on top. Daisy instinctively flinches when she spots the exposed wire, her body remembering shocks of pain and broken bones and burns. Kara squeezes her hand a little tighter. “Shall we begin?” </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry it wasn’t as long as usual, and there’s a couple more flashbacks to come, we just needed to know how kara and daisy were doing lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Lost and Found</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bobbi will stop at nothing to find Daisy and Kara.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is messy and chaotic and possibly confusing so i’m sorry for that i guess, action like this is hard to write and harder to read, but i think it’s coherent? </p><p>this might be a bit anticlimactic so feel free to shout at me in the comments if it is </p><p>however, that is all the angst like this over and done with, normal post trauma angst from now on, with fluff and stuff i promise (for real this time) </p><p>WARNINGS: torture, murder, guns, rape mentions (brief), injuries, bobbi not taking care of herself, vomit mentions, just a massive trigger warning for everything triggery honestly i’m sorry </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Present Day - CSI HQ </strong>
</p><p>“Bobbi, you need to sleep.” Izzy said gently, nudging Bobbi’s shoulder but the blonde flinched away. </p><p>She wanted to sleep, of course she did, but she couldn’t. It had been three days, five hours and sixteen minutes since Daisy and Kara had been kidnapped and she wouldn’t stop until she’d found them, found <em>her. </em></p><p>“I’m not letting her down this time, Iz.” Bobbi said resolutely, rubbing her tired eyes. Her hands shook with anxiety, stress and endless cups of shitty coffee. She knew she looked like shit, her hair was in a messy ponytail done about two days ago, her eyes were ringed with dark circles and her batons lay at her side. Everyone knew she only brought her batons out when she was stressed or about to go into combat. </p><p>“What happened to her in Iraq wasn’t your fault, honey.” Izzy tried to comfort her, but Bobbi shook her head stubbornly. </p><p>“It might not have happened if we had any idea she was still alive.” </p><p>“You can’t possibly know that, Bobbi! You and Hunter had been out of the division for nearly two years by the time she was kidnapped, what could you have done?” And Bobbi doesn’t have an answer and logically she knows what Izzy is saying is true, but it hurts too much right now to admit that. Until she had tangible proof of Daisy and Kara in front of her, safe and sound, she’d blame herself for the Iraq kidnapping and this one whilst she was at it. She shouldn’t have let Daisy go home alone, shouldn’t have left Kara there alone either, should have, could have, would have, none of it mattered because Daisy was still <em>gone</em>. </p><p>“I need to find them, Izzy.” Bobbi whispers desperately, sucking in a deep breath to try and stave off the incoming panic attack. “I need her.” </p><p>“And we’ll find them. But you have to look after yourself too, Bob.” Hunter suddenly materialised beside her, gripping her hand in his. He met her eyes and he looked as shitty as she did, but there was a thick layer of understanding there that was only built through the history they had together. They’d survived everything together, since that bar in her hometown in 2009, to Kuwait in 2014, to the nightmares and cases and triggers and anxiety and panic attacks and everything that came with being a veteran. He’d held her after she’d woken up screaming, feeling phantom guns against her chest and bones breaking in her knee, and she’d put him back to bed when the flashbacks got too intense and he went out drinking to cope with it. </p><p>They’d been damaged and burned by what they’d seen but they’d gotten through. </p><p>“I can’t.” A tear slides down her cheek before she can stop it, she roughly wipes it away. “Please, we have to find them.” </p><p>“Okay.” Hunter relents, though Izzy shoots him a glare. “We’ll work until the workday ends and then you’re going to sleep and you can look again when you wake up.” </p><p>“Thank you.” She leans her forehead against his, a code they made up back when they were just out the forces and couldn’t speak about what they had going through their minds. He tilts up to kiss her forehead, though the angle is awkward because she’s taller but it doesn’t matter. He’s Hunter and he’s her best friend and he’s always there. </p><p>“Now come on, we got some girls to find.” Izzy rolls her eyes but goes back to a laptop, Bobbi goes back to scouring the streaming site they found a couple days ago that uploaded those horrific videos of Daisy from Iraq to see if they were posting again, and Hunter left to go out patrolling with Mack and Elena. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day - SCYLLA BUILDING </strong>
</p><p>Kara wasn’t quite sure how much more of this she could handle. </p><p>She thought that being in the hospital, waiting for Daisy to wake up from her coma, or dragging herself bleeding across the sand dunes, or Lincoln’s death, any of that, had been worse than this. </p><p>Worse than watching her best friend get tortured right in front of her. </p><p>Worse than knowing it would happen to her in four days if Daisy didn’t talk. </p><p>Worse than not knowing if anyone was coming for them. </p><p>None of it was worse than this. This was a new nightmare, so much trauma at one time that it didn’t feel real, like they were stuck in a virtual reality of something. Their own personal hell, and she was stuck in limbo whilst Daisy had reached purgatory. </p><p>It was all just too much at once. </p><p>“All right, that’s enough for now.” Malick said, an evil smile still twisted on his little weasel face that Kara has come to dread. “Let her rest.” </p><p>The SCYLLA goons unstrap Daisy from the chair they’ve been using to “interrogate” her, the girl going floppy almost immediately from the sheer amount of pain she must be in. They’d used exposed wires to shock her on the first day, lighters to burn her on the second day, and today they’d been using pipes to hit her with when she refused to tell them where that fucking flash drive was. Kara had flinched with every hit, hearing at least three bones snap, Daisy’s skin turning a horrible shade of purple with the sheer force of the pipe on exposed flesh. They’d stripped her to her shorts and sports bra on the first day. Kara thanked whatever was up there that they’d let her keep her own clothes. </p><p>The goons deposit Daisy on the floor, on the other side of the room from Kara. They don’t tie her up this time, but that’s probably because they know she’s too weak right now to even attempt to fight back or escape. Malick stops to admire his handiwork, stroking her hair creepily before smirking at Kara and leaving, taking his goons with him. </p><p>Kara gags, but keeps down whatever is left in her stomach after not being fed for the past three or so days. The door shuts with a bang, the familiar sound of a lock clicking into place. She knows that sound will haunt her dreams. </p><p>Once footsteps retreat and the light on the camera on the roof turns off, Kara scrambles over to Daisy, gathering her head into her lap as best she can without disturbing her injuries. Tears prick at her eyes with Daisy’s softened pained whimpers, quietened by years of training herself not to show them her pain. It’s gut wrenching and it’s painful and Kara just wants it to stop. For herself, for Daisy, for whomever is looking for them. </p><p>“Daisy?” Kara whispers to the girl curled in her lap. “Daisy, wake up, please.” </p><p>“K-KP?” Daisy’s voice is faint and broken, but it’s there, and that’s enough for Kara right now. The younger girl’s eyes open a crack, Kara smiles down at her. </p><p>“Hey, angel.” </p><p>“It- it hurts, KP.” </p><p>“I know it does, Dee.” Kara holds her a little gentler, shifting to stork her hair, praying it feels better than Malick. “I’m so sorry.” </p><p>“Not your f-fault.” Daisy winces as she moves her neck to look better at Kara. “I’m the one with the info.” </p><p>“You’re doing so well, angel.” Kara tells her. “Just hold out a little longer, okay?” </p><p>“Iraq wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had you there to give me pep talks like this.” Daisy chuckles slightly, then gasps slightly at the pain in her broken ribs. “Okay, no laughing. Got it.” </p><p>“Only you could make jokes whilst being held captive and tortured.” Kara smiles and shakes her head fondly. </p><p>“Trust me, imaginary Kora and Bobbi found it hilarious when I was in Iraq.” Daisy grins slightly, her eyes shadowed and tired. She blinks heavily. “I wanna sleep.” </p><p>“Okay, Dee. You’re okay, just go to sleep.” Kara soothes, finding a rhythm in Daisy’s hair, damp with sweat and possibly blood. </p><p>“Thank you...for still being here, Kara.” Daisy whispers, hovering on the edge of consciousness. Kara lets the tears start falling and kisses Daisy forehead, carefully avoiding the long cut across her forehead and cheek where a pipe had been misjudged and slammed into her face. She was passed out for so long Kara was scared she wouldn’t wake up again after that one.</p><p>“Go to sleep, Daisy.” She says quietly, watching Daisy’s eyes close and her breaths begin to even out. Kara can freak out when she doesn’t have a beaten and damaged Daisy in her arms. Right now, she can rock her gently to sleep until they come back and begin again.</p><p>She can only hope it’s enough.</p><p> </p><hr/><p><strong>Present Day - </strong> <strong>CSI HQ </strong></p><p>“Bobbi! Bobbi!” Fitz shouted from the other end of the hall. Bobbi whirled around, crashing into Vic. </p><p>“Careful!” </p><p>“Fitz?” Bobbi marched ahead, almost running up to Fitz. It was the end of the day. she’d reached her limit on waking hours before her vision had started going blurry and she started feeling faint. But that might have been the endless videos of Daisy’s torture that had been streamed that afternoon, watching the woman she loves be beaten with pipes and shocked with wires and some guard running a long knife across her chest at the end, a thin strip of blood flowing. The young engineer paled a little as she got to him. “What is it?” </p><p>“A set of dog tags had a GPS tag in them, me and Daisy had worked on it ages ago, and she must have given it to Kara before you two came into work on Tuesday. The program finally got a location!” His eyes glinted with newfound hope and Bobbi found herself almost passing out with relief. They had a lead! </p><p>“Fitz I could kiss you!” Bobbi exclaimed and Fitz blushed a deep scarlet. Bobbi didn’t even have it in her to tease him, she whipped back the way she was originally going and went to find the rest of the team. </p><p>They were going to find Daisy and Kara and she was going to save Daisy this time. Bobbi didn’t care what it took, she was going to bring them home. </p><hr/><p>“Okay, Bobbi, Hunter and May, you take the front after SWAT, Mack, Elena and me will take the back.” Coulson commanded and the team nodded. There were also SWAT teams going in with them, cops and ambulance on standby. This was being considered a terrorist threat and would be treated as such. Who knew what SCYLLA were doing in there? </p><p>In the back of her mind, Bobbi was still trying to work out why they needed Daisy so badly in the first place, enough to hold her for two full years, even when she didn’t break due to torture, rape or starvation. What could be that important to a vindictive terrorist cell? </p><p>But she knows why as soon as the door is busted open, they’ve been led down several winding hallways by SWAT and after many busted doors, empty rooms and false finds, they run into a very familiar face. </p><p>“Well, we’ll, well...Agent Morse.” <em>Daniel fucking Whitehall</em> stands in front of a locked door, heavily guarded by SCYLLA guards. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.” </p><p>“How in the fuck are you still alive?” Hunter swears, gun aimed at the guy slowly approaching. </p><p>“Funny, the little firecracker said the same thing.” His eyes are way too gleeful for someone with ten guns raised to his head. </p><p>“Where are they?” Bobbi demands, pushing forward to the front of the group, breaking through May and Hunter’s arms trying to hold her back. She doesn’t care if she’s going face to face with a thought-to-be dead terrorist, he knows where her girlfriend is and she won’t let anything stop her. </p><p>“Careful, Xena.” Whitehall coos and Bobbi’s skin crawl. “They’re alive-“ </p><p>“That doesn’t answer my question, dickwad.” Bobbi hisses. Whitehall laughs. </p><p>“All in good time-“</p><p>“No, you don’t have time. This whole place is surrounded, we know you haven’t cracked Daisy because the flash drive is still safe, it’s over Whitehall. SCYLLA is done. For good, this time. Tell us where they are.” Bobbi is sick and tired of mind games and streaming sites and watching Daisy get tortured and Kara having to watch it in real time. She’s exhausted and filled with adrenaline and anger and she cocks her gun as a warning. “Tell me, <em>now.” </em></p><p>“Tell me where the drive is and I’ll tell you where they are.” They all whirl around as Coulson and crew come up another corridor with a scrawny man with a weasel looking face. Whitehall’s face shifts to unkempt anger, his brow furrowing. </p><p>“<em>Nathaniel.</em>” He bites out, Bobbi keeps her gun trained on his head, fully aware of the guards guns aimed at her own. </p><p>“We can’t break Daisy, Whitehall.” Nathaniel says, arrogance coating his words that makes Bobbi want to punch him in the face until his nose breaks. “But maybe we can use her to break her girlfriend.” </p><p>“This isn’t a debate-“ Coulson starts but he’s cut off by Whitehall who seems to finally understand what plan Nathaniel is hatching. </p><p>“Ah yes, Agent Morse.” Bobbi turns to fully face him. “The girls are behind this door, but only we have the code and soon, the room will fill with gas on account of your presence here. We can get the girls out, but we won’t unless you tell us how to get that flash drive.”</p><p>“That’s it?” She asks, and she can feel the wary eyes of Hunter on her back. She knows they all think she’s considering it.</p><p>Bobbi’s not that stupid, even in her desperate state. She knows what type of people Whitehall and Nathaniel are, knows that they’ll never let Daisy and Kara get away. The fact that they followed Daisy all the way to the States shows that. That room will fill with gas regardless on whether they get the flash drive or not, Daisy and Kara will die and SCYLLA will have what they wanted.</p><p>World domination.</p><p>It’s terrifying to think what monsters like Whitehall or Nathaniel would do with that type of power.</p><p>“That’s it.” Whitehall smiles, all lies and broken promises, just like he did in Bahrain and Bobbi fights the urge to shiver under his gaze.  </p><p>“Everyone else leaves.” Bobbi says, ignoring all of the shocked stares she gets. She looks at Coulson for a long moment and nods. He nods back, trust and understanding in his eyes.</p><p>She’s got a plan. </p><p>“Alright. Leave us.” Whitehall commands and the guards and SWAT and Bobbi’s team all leave down the hallway, leaving her, Whitehall and Nathaniel alone. </p><p>“She’s quite the fighter, I’ll give you that.” Nathaniel says, Bobbi smiles. </p><p>“I’m aware of that. What I don’t know is why you kept her alive so long. Was it only about the flash drive?” She asks. </p><p>“It was at first.” Nathaniel admits, leaning casually against the wall as if this isn’t a fucking hostage situation and he didn’t kidnap Daisy for two years and torture her. Bobbi hates him with every fibre of her being, but keeps her emotions in check, face neutral. “But then I just wanted to see how long someone could really hold out. How far the body could be pushed before the mind broke. After all-“</p><p>“Discovery requires experimentation.” Whitehall finishes with a strangely proud grin. It was disgusting watching the two men bond over the trauma they had put Daisy through. “Now, Agent Morse. The location of the flash drive please.” </p><p>“It’s in a lock box in a bank in Milwaukee.” Bobbi tells them, and truly, that’s all she knows. But they don’t know that. “But the key is in a jar in a farmhouse in Pennsylvania and the code for the security door for that farmhouse is in a safe in Belgium that only Daisy knows the code to.” </p><p>“That’s a lot of hoops to jump through.” Nathaniel says, disbelief colouring his words but Bobbi stands tall and sells her lies. </p><p>“The information was worth that amount of protection.” </p><p>“We’ll need to send Gideon to get in then.” Whitehall tells Nathaniel who nods. “Since I assume we aren’t just going to be able to leave right Agent Morse?” </p><p>“I don’t know if you’ve forgotten about the reason I’m here or the gun I’ve got levelled at your head, but yes, you’re not getting off scot-free.” Bobbi  snarks. “Now, a deals a deal. The code to the door.” </p><p>“19-49-084.” Bobbi grins and Whitehall tilts his head in confusion. “Yes, Agent Morse?” </p><p>“I hope you rot in hell.” </p><p>And then she shoots him in the throat. </p><p>“What the fuck!” Nathaniel shouts, rushing forward only to be caught by Bobbi, who’s honestly having a very, very bad week, and has run out of patience after that little performance. </p><p>“Was that actually the code to the door?” She holds the gun against his head and stares him down. He practically crumples under her steely gaze and gulps. Coward. </p><p>“N-no. I-it’s 03-12-013.” She throws him to the floor, shoots him in the leg and radios for backup before pumping the code in the door, silently thanking whatever is up there that cursed them to this kind of life in the first place when the light turns green and the door opens. </p><p>Of course the code was the date they took down Achilles in Bahrain. Whitehall was a classic narcissist, it would be his supposed death date that would be the code to Daisy and Kara’s freedom.</p><p>“Bobbi!” Kara shouts when the door opens fully and she bursts in, gun hot for anyone they left in here to guard Daisy and Kara, but the room is empty apart from an empty, bloody chair, some broken pipes and a blood trail leading to-</p><p>“Daisy!” Bobbi practically screams when she sees Daisy in Kara’s arms, pale and sweaty and beaten to a pulp. She rushed over and throws her gun away, hearing it skitter and hit the wall. She didn’t even put the safety on, it could have gone off as she threw it and hurt someone but she didn’t care. Daisy and Kara were what mattered right now. </p><p>“You came.” Kara sobs, clinging to Daisy like a lifeline. “You came.” </p><p>“Of course we did.” Bobbi says, softer now that she’s seen Daisy is at least breathing, though it doesn’t quell any anxiety she has. Daisy’s left arm is at a weird angle, torso bruising suggested rib breaks and fractures, bruises littered her entire body, ranging from surface level to possible internal bleeding. The most concerning was that line they cut across her chest, it was all red and inflamed, it had to have been a couple of hours since it happened and obviously it wasn’t treated, the room wasn’t exactly clean. There were bad burns too, from lighters or electric shocks. “God, what did they do to you?” </p><p>“She wouldn’t let me take it.” Kara cries, some sort of apology in her words that Bobbi knows she can’t fully comprehend right now. </p><p>“Bobbi!” Hunter’s voice shouts from the hallway. “Bobbi where are you?” </p><p>“In here, I’ve got them!” Bobbi yells back, making Kara flinch violently. Daisy stirs slightly at the sudden movement and lets out a pained whimper. Bobbi slides a hand under her head. “Kara, let me take her.” </p><p>“No!” Kara says fearfully, like separating them will mean she won’t ever see Daisy again or Daisy will only be hurt again. But maybe that’s what it does mean to her, after their shared trauma. Any time Daisy was taken away from Kara, she was led to a chair where she was harmed more and more, of course Kara wouldn’t want to let her go, even to Bobbi. </p><p>But Bobbi really needed to get Daisy to the paramedics and Kara too. So, no matter how much she knew it would hurt she said, “Kara, please, let me take her. She needs help.” </p><p>“I let her take it.” Kara says, breaths shaky with the force of her tears and if Daisy wasn’t practically moaning in pain, Bobbi would relent. “She wouldn’t let them hurt me and look at her.” </p><p>“Then let us help her now.” Hunter says softly as he walked over to them. He had to swallow his vomit as he took in the room and Daisy herself. He approached slowly and cautiously. “Kara, let Bobbi take Daisy.” </p><p>“Okay.” Kara whispered eventually when Daisy outright gasped in pain and shock, writhing in the strange place of unconsciousness and awake she was in. “Just be gentle.” </p><p>“Thank you.” Bobbi says softly, sliding Daisy out of Kara’s arms and into her own. Daisy felt so small, so <em>young, </em>in her arms that a few tears of her own started falling down her cheeks. “Thank you for looking after her, KP.” </p><p>“I’m so sorry.” Kara mumbled against Hunter’s shoulder where he was helping her off the ground. She could walk, she was barely harmed compared to Daisy in her eyes. But she was in shock, so she accepted Hunter’s help, eyes trained on Daisy. </p><p>“You couldn’t do anything to stop it, Kara.” Hunter told her gently, an echo of what him and Izzy told Bobbi that very morning. “What’s done is done.” </p><p>“Let’s get out of here.” Bobbi says, already walking out of the door with Daisy in her arms. She doesn’t even stop to look at Whitehall’s body on the floor or Nathaniel on a stretcher, none of it. She keeps walking all the way through the building and doesn’t stop until she reaches the entrance, a sea of red and blue flashing vehicles and men in black and SUV’s. She just walks through all of it until she reaches an ambulance, the EMT’s immediately opening the doors and helping her put Daisy in the bed in the back. </p><p>“B-B-Bobbi?” Daisy’s eyes open a tiny fraction, her voice weak and drained. Bobbi leans forward from where’s she sitting whilst the driver races to the nearest hospital and the EMT’s hook Daisy up to all sorts of machines and wires and stuff Jemma and Fitz would know the names, functions, origin and inventor of. She pushes some hair out of Daisy’s face and kisses her forehead. </p><p>“You’re okay now, Rockstar. It’s all over.” </p><p>“P-promise?” Daisy practically begs in a pained whisper and Bobbi’s heart clenches. </p><p>“I promise.” </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Soft Sounds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The hospital.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i genuinely love the little family that is their division like i know the team is kinda family too, but that division just lives in my head rent free like they’re all so soft? perfection honestly if i do say so myself</p><p>kind of a meh chapter honestly but we get soft morsecode and soft division and that’s everything to me </p><p>WARNINGS: hospitals, medical stuff (possibly inaccurate because i don’t do bio or anything and most of my research is from google or other fics so don’t read too far into it lmfao), plenty of torture mentions, trauma, amputation mention (kind of, very vague mention)</p><p>thanks for still reading btw! i know it’s messy and chaotic and angsty and trauma filled but i really appreciate everyone that keeps up with my little dumb fics so thank you! </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>“She’s been in there for a long time.” Kara says nervously. They’ve been in the waiting room for four hours since they arrived at the hospital. Kara got checked over by the doctors, but apart from slight dehydration and some antibiotics for the infection on the cut on her arm, she was otherwise unharmed. </p><p>Well apart from the trauma, but she was getting used to that. </p><p>“Kara, darling, I love you, but that’s really not helping.” Hunter says, shushing Bobbi when she groaned a little in her sleep. </p><p>“Sorry.” Kara said for what must have been the eightieth time that day. She didn’t know how to say it so it made her feel better, the one person who she should be saying it to was behind double doors after being tortured. </p><p>Torture that she took for Kara. </p><p>Torture that Kara <em>should </em>have just dealt with because Daisy had been through enough, they had all been through enough but things <em>kept </em>happening and she was powerless to stop it and-</p><p>“Kara, breathe.” Vic said quietly beside her, gripping her hand. Kara flinched a little but realised she had been holding her breath, her mind cycling at a mile a minute. She forced in a breath, then two, then three and so on. </p><p>“Anyone want coffee?” Izzy asked, tapping her feet anxiously. This was worse than waiting to find out if they had salvaged her hand, (shock horror, they hadn’t) because at least she was on morphine. </p><p>“If I move she’ll wake up,” Hunter nodded to the blonde asleep on his shoulder. “and if you drink any more coffee your fiancé will kill you.” </p><p>“At least we’ll be able to have everyone at the wedding.” Vic spoke up, but winced when Kara’s face fell. “Almost everyone.” </p><p>“He was really looking forward to it.” Kara said quietly. “I keep forgetting that he’s dead.” </p><p>The group fell silent after that. They hadn’t ever had to process a death as a group before, Vic and Izzy had already left when Trip died and Hunter and Bobbi were being moved to the States for recovery. Lincoln was their third youngest, only a year older than Kara. He was sweet and warm and always good for a laugh. He was one of their best. </p><p>Their uneasy silence is broken by one of the doors opening and a doctor in blue scrubs stepping in. Bobbi wakes up at the movement in the room, immediately at attention. </p><p>“Is she okay?” She asks desperately, her voice weary and tired. The doctor gives them a kind smile, which is always good news. </p><p>“She’ll survive.” A collective sigh of relief runs out. That was a miracle with their history. “There was some internal bleeding around the liver that caused some minor damage but we managed to save most of the organ and stitched her up. The line on her chest will leave a nasty scar but was otherwise fine, four broken ribs that we set, the cut on her forehead and cheek will scar, we set that broken arm and with some bruise cream, the bruises will fade naturally.” </p><p>“But other than that she’s fine?” Izzy pressed. </p><p>“Yes,” the doctor assured them. “I’d suggest a lot of R+R, therapy and sleep, but physically, she’s going to be fine.” </p><p>“Can we see her?” Bobbi asked, flipping one of her batons between her hands. Izzy had brought her them when they got the call that they’d got Daisy and Kara out. </p><p>“She’s sleeping off the anaesthesia right now but you can see her. I must ask you to be very careful though, we don’t know what kind of state she’ll be in when she wakes up.” They gave a nod of thanks and followed the doctor dow  the corridor. She led them to a door and opened it for them. </p><p>The remaining six members of division 709514315 crowded into a a small hospital room. The nurses did final checks on the IV lines and heart monitor and drips, and left them to it. </p><p>Bobbi’s legs practically gave out at the sight of her girlfriend hooked up to wires and machines, thick bandages wrapping her body, a cast for her arm, stitches in her face...it all just reminded her of what happened, how she failed Daisy <em>again. </em>She forced herself to move though, sitting on the chair at the edge of Daisy’s bed. She took the hand that wasn’t casted and squeezed it gently, brushing some hair out of Daisy’s face. She could Daisy’s pulse on her wrist and the stable heartbeat was enough to calm some of her nerves. She could apologise when Daisy woke up, shout at her for taking all of that torture herself, for being so bloody self-sacrificial. But Daisy was <em>alive </em>and safe and that was enough. </p><p>It was more than enough, it was <em>everything. </em></p><p>“I’m so sick of hospitals.” Vic says, resting her head on her fiancé’s shoulder. “No one is allowed to get put in hospital for the next ten years.” </p><p>“I second that.” Hunter agreed, squeezing Bobbi’s other hand. Rooms like this were rough for them. </p><p>“I’m sick of seeing <em>her </em>in hospital.” Kara sighs, sitting on the floor next to Daisy’s bed since all the chairs were taken. She looked a little better now she’d seen that Daisy had actually survived but she was still shaky and sad and so tired that she felt like she might pass out of the floor. It wouldn’t be any worse than the floor of that room, probably cleaner. She shook off memories of a hospital bed like this one in Belgium, of burned skin and comas and phantom Lincoln’s sleeping on her shoulder. “Damn girl’s too bloody stubborn to die, but she keeps ending up here.” </p><p>“She can hear you.” Daisy’s voice carried through the room and shut them all up. She was slow in opening her eyes since she was waking up from surgery and torture and fuck, <em>that </em>hurt. </p><p>“You stupid idiot.” Bobbi whispered, tears freely streaming down her face. Daisy looked up at her with big guilty eyes and she softened, kissing her forehead. “I love you, Rockstar.” </p><p>Daisy’s breath hitched painfully as the tears started, all of the memories suddenly flooding back at once. The streaming site and the kidnapping and the room and Malick and the chair and Kara and wires then lighters then pipes and the flash drive and <em>Bobbi, Bobbi, Bobbi- </em></p><p>“I love you too.” She gasps out, forcing herself up painfully to hug Bobbi as tightly, though awkwardly with their angles, as she can. “I love you so fucking much.” </p><p>“You are never allowed to get tortured again.” Bobbi cried into Daisy hair. It smelled like chemicals and sweat and blood, but she didn’t care. </p><p>“Deal.” Daisy promised in a whisper. She kissed Bobbi soundly, because there were still words she could never say out loud and can only communicate through actions. “No more near death experiences.” </p><p>“I should bloody well hope not.” Hunter said from the other side of the small room with a grin. Daisy turned her head away from Bobbi’s shoulder to smile at him. </p><p>“The flash drive,” Daisy says suddenly, breaking away from Bobbi, wincing when the pain caught up to her. “They didn’t get it did they?” </p><p>“I believe they’re looking in Belgium for codes to a gate in Pennsylvania for a key in a jar in a farmhouse that would open a lock box in Milwaukee.” Bobbi said proudly. “We’re destroying that thing first chance we get.” </p><p>“Hmm, we’ll need to go to New York first. That’s where the key actually is.” Daisy says, lying back on her pillows. Everything hurts and she feels like it’ll probably hurt for a long time. Getting tortured was a real bitch on the body. </p><p>“The only place you’re going is home.” Vic cuts in. “And for a very long time so you can recover properly.” </p><p>“You guys actually came.” Daisy says quietly, like if she admits it loudly enough they’ll disappear. She hasn’t seen them all in the same room since 2013. </p><p>“Of course we did honey.” Izzy says with a grin. “Our little ones needed us.” </p><p>“We’re not little!” Kara says indignantly. Izzy and Hunter laugh at her pout whilst Vic rolls her eyes. </p><p>“You’re both 5ft6” on a good day, you’re tiny balls of angst, darlings.” Kara gives Izzy the finger and Daisy laughs then cringes when it hurts. Bobbi frowns and makes her lie down again. </p><p>“Who’s watching Cassie?” Daisy asks. </p><p>“Mack.” </p><p>“Maybe she’ll grow to like Minnie then.” </p><p>“Hmm, doubt it.” Bobbi laughs. She rubs her eyes as the tiredness starts to set in again. She hasn’t properly in what feels like weeks, her entire body feels heavy and clunky now that the initial adrenaline boost of Daisy being out of surgery had passed. She slumped slightly in her seat, Daisy frowned and looked pointedly at Hunter. He nodded and cleared his throat.</p><p>“Alright ladies, shall we leave the lovebirds to their reunion?” Vic and Izzy nodded and stood to leave. </p><p>“We’ll come by tomorrow alright?” Vic says and Daisy nods appreciatively. Vic gives her a rare smile and gives them both a kiss on the cheek, very carefully avoiding Daisy’s stitches, which she has just realised exist now.</p><p>“You staying or coming with us, KP?” Izzy asks Kara, who claims one of their vacated seats.</p><p>“Staying.” She hesitates and looks back at Bobbi and Daisy. “Is that okay?” </p><p>“Of course.” Bobbi says and Daisy nods frantically, the same desperation that Kara had over her five hours ago in the room. It’s weird to think it’s only been five hours, it feels like days. </p><p>“Please stay.” Daisy says.</p><p>“We’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest okay?” Izzy says, giving them all a knowing look. </p><p>“Thanks for everything, Iz.” Bobbi says. </p><p>“I’ll bring you clothes and shit tomorrow.” Hunter says, kissing Bobbi’s forehead, high-fiving Daisy and fist-bumping Kara because he doesn’t know how they are with touch at the minute. “Love you.” </p><p>“Bye Hunter.” Bobbi calls as he leaves. </p><p>“How did you find us?” Daisy asks when the door has shut. Bobbi’s managed to bypass all the drips and wires to crawl into the bed beside her, Daisy’s head on her chest, braiding tiny sections of her hair. Kara had taken Bobbi’s chair and was anxiously picking at her nails. </p><p>“Those dog tags that you and Fitz made.” Bobbi said. “They pinged a location three days after you two went missing.” </p><p>“I’m glad you made me take them now.” Kara admitted. </p><p>“Me too.” Daisy goes quiet for a minute, staring into space as her untasted hand clenched and unclenched. “I’m sorry you went through that at all, KP.” </p><p>“Are you kidding me?” Kara asked incredulously. Daisy avoided eye contact and Kara’s eyes welled up again. “You shouldn’t have taken all of it, Zee. I could have handled it.” </p><p>“I wasn’t going to let you get tortured when I’d already let you get kidnapped. It’s my fault we were even in that mess, I couldn’t let you take the fall.” Daisy said adamantly. She moved up off Bobbi’s chest and held her ribs protectively when it ached. Damn broken ribs. “I’d already gone through it in Iraq, I know what it does to people. You’re too good Kara, even after everything, you're still <em>Kara. </em>I don’t think I’ve really been <em>Daisy</em> since I woke up in Belgium.” </p><p>“You still should have let me take it.” Kara argued, scrubbing her face tiredly. “I thought they killed you at least eight times.” </p><p>“They couldn’t kill me in two years and they couldn’t kill me now, I think I might be immortal.” Daisy flinched a bit when Bobbi put a finger over her lips. She looked up and Bobbi’s eyes were closed. </p><p>“I’m begging you to go to sleep, we can talk about your identity crisis and torture and guilt and shit in the morning, but for now, please sleep.” Bobbi said, punctuating her words with a yawn. Kara giggled and stole one of Daisy’s many pillows and blankets, curling up in her plastic chair. The army will teach you to be able to sleep anywhere and everywhere. </p><p>“Thank you for saving me.” Daisy whispered to her girlfriend. Bobbi cracked open an eye and smiled, pulling Daisy closer. </p><p>“We save each other.” She said, in Kuwait, in Bahrain, in Taiwan, even here in Nevada, they would always save each other. “Now sleep, you need it to heal.” </p><p>“I love you.” Daisy sighed happily. Sure, she was all broken bones and scars and cuts and she didn’t quite know why there was a long bandage across her stomach or what surgery they did down there, but she was safe and curled up in Bobbi’s arms. She’d gone through hell and back twice now and lived to tell the tale. Her demons weren’t gone, far from it and she had a feeling that when she slept off all of the morphine in her system right now, she’d be a nervous and angry and trauma filled mess, but, she was here and she’d survived. </p><p>Not everyone got that option. Lincoln, Trip, Kora, her dad, none of them got this far and it wasn’t fair but she had to survive for them now. She’d live and love and move on, finally, and maybe, just maybe, she’d be happy this time. </p><p>It was a stupid and very Disney dream, but it was comforting right now.</p><p>One of Bobbi’s arms held her loosely by the waist and the other held onto her wrist, feeling for her pulse point. Daisy just let her find her pulse and measure it, checking even in her sleep. She leaned into Bobbi’s chest and held onto Kara’s hand at her side and fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep, safe and protected and alive.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Through the Storms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nightmares plague Bobbi in the present and the past.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>three chapters left awww </p><p>this chapter is honestly just morsecode content, like there’s literally nothing else lmfao </p><p>and cassie content! </p><p>also i wrote this chapter on my kitchen floor in between my english essay and my history essay so if it’s messy pls blame exams i hate them gross </p><p>WARNINGS: very dark nightmare that bobbi has in the beginning with shootings and mentions of bombs and very minor mentions of loss of limb, mentions of torture, mentions of death </p><p>it’s a soft chapter tho i promise </p><p>-bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>March 11th, 2014 </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>They trudge through the wet sand, it’s raining for the first time in ages, making the sand beneath their feet sink and stick to their skin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’ve got to get back to camp. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Izzy might not make it if they don’t get back soon and Vic hasn’t spoken in nearly four hours, her eyes focused on the camp in the distance, holding onto Izzy with a death grip, Trip on her other side. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The rain keeps letting down on them, their clothes sticking to them. Bobbi and Daisy lead the charge, guns raised for any combatants they meet on the way but they’ll lose anyway. Izzy’s about to bleed out from the bomb that took her arm, Hunter’s got a minor concussion, Vic’s traumatised and Bobbi’s got a bullet wound she hasn’t told anyone about. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A bang goes off somewhere behind them and they’re on guard immediately, Trip and Vic running forward with Izzy to get her back to camp. They form a circle, trying to find the shooter but find nothing but empty sand dunes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We have to keep going!” Lincoln cries through the ongoing rain. “Izzy’s not going to make it much longer out here.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where’s that shooter?” Daisy shouts. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It doesn’t matter, keep going!” Kara shouts back, but her next sentence is cut off by a sharp cry as she falls back with the force of a bullet. Daisy screams and goes to her, red, red blood spilling onto the sand and Bobbi’s frozen. She can’t move. Izzy just lost an arm and now Kara’s been shot and- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Another shot rings out. Daisy’s head cracks forward. She slumps on the sand next to Kara and Bobbi can’t move. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why can’t she move? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bang. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lincoln. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bang. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Trip. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bang. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Vic. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bang. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Izzy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bang- </em>
</p><p>“It’s not real, milaya, cmon, come back to me.” Daisy’s soft voice wakes her with a start, her arms flailing as she tried to shoot at imaginary attackers in the sand dunes. Daisy catches her wrist and she flinches, but stops struggling as much. She’s coated in sweat, her hair sticking to her face and neck. Her eyes are wide as she searches the room for rain and blood and guns and <em>Izzy. </em>“Easy, it’s not real.” </p><p>“Felt real.” Bobbi says, her hands shaking. She clenches them into fists and tries to get rid of the images ingrained in her mind of Daisy face down in the sand and Izzy’s missing arm and Vic’s empty eyes. It’s been two months since that op and the nightmares aren’t getting any better. She sighs and leans back against her pillow, playing with Daisy’s fingers when she puts her arm around her. </p><p>“I know.” Daisy sighs. “It always does.” </p><p>“I dreamed that you died on that op.” Bobbi whispers and Daisy kisses her forehead. “That all of you died and I couldn’t do anything. I just stood there...frozen.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t do that in real life.” Bobbi looks up at her girlfriend.</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“Because you haven’t frozen before. You keep going until it’s done, even when there’s no hope. We’ve been through some of the worst things in the world, more than normal people ever even dream of seeing, but you’ve never once frozen or stopped or faltered. You won’t freeze in real life because you <em>can’t. </em>It’s just not something you would do.” Bobbi looks away and ponders that. It’s true, she’s never frozen anywhere except her nightmares but seeing it all like that, feeling her limbs turn to stone and her mind shut down as she watched all of her friends die...</p><p>“It doesn’t mean it won’t happen.” Daisy chuckled quietly and Bobbi raised an eyebrow. “What?” </p><p>“Then you’ll have someone at your back to keep going when you freeze. We look after our own, you know that.” Daisy says until realisation kicks in. “We try to, at least.” </p><p>“Izzy wasn’t your fault.” Izzy’s arm being amputated wasn’t anyone’s fault except the people who built that IED, but somehow, everyone in their division blamed themselves. Daisy pokes her in the rib. </p><p>“Wasn’t yours either.” </p><p>“We should go back to sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Bobbi says instead of accepting that. Daisy rolls her eyes but lies down obligingly. Technically they weren’t supposed to share a bed, it was the army after all, but as long as Daisy got out and into her own for morning drills, they were fine. They were breaking into some massive compound tomorrow, on the outskirts of Kuwait. Simple get in, grab prisoners from the US side, grab info, get out and hope the place doesn’t blow to hell. </p><p>“I still think they should be sending more soldiers than just us.” Daisy grumbled, rolling over so she was the little spoon because that just made sense. “There’s no way we’ll be able to do it without something going wrong.” </p><p>“It’ll be fine, Dais. We’ve managed bigger ops than this before with just our division.” </p><p>“We still had Vic and Izzy before. It’s just six of us now.” Daisy points out. Bobbi let’s out a long sigh and encircles Daisy’s waist with her arms. </p><p>“Its a problem for tomorrow.” She says, closing her eyes pointedly. “Quiet time now.” </p><p>“I hate being quiet.” Daisy whines. </p><p>“We know.” Hunter’s gruff voice grumbles from two beds over. “Now shut up and go to sleep.” </p><p>“Rude.” Daisy sticks her tongue out at him in the darkness. </p><p>“Night, dorogaya.” Bobbi whispers, kissing the back of Daisy’s head. </p><p>“Sleep well sweet one.” Daisy says quietly, squeezing her hand. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>It’s been a long night. </p><p>Bobbi keeps waking up in a cold sweat, images of Lincoln and the bullet hole in his head mixed with Daisy on the floor of that room, flashing between now and Kuwait and Bahrain and the videos from Iraq, mixing and melting to become some sick picture show of her worst fears. </p><p>She gives us around half three in the morning when she wakes up from her fourth nightmare, Daisy still sleeping, though she doubted it was peacefully. Bobbi carefully slides out of Daisy’s bed and walks as quietly as she can through her small apartment to the living room. They’d finally taken the crime scene tape down and she’s pretty sure Mack and Jemma came round to clean the place up before Daisy got back from the hospital. It smells like bleach and the faint scent of blood from where they’d scrubbed the walls of the SCYLLA insignia. Bobbi can still see the faint outline on the wall though. She’s pretty sure Daisy can too. </p><p>She gets a glass of water and sits on the couch, the TV on mute with subtitles so it didn’t wake her girlfriend. She’s not entirely sure what show she’s watching, some cooking competition that is just the right type of brainless she needs right now. The world keeps spinning outside the window, Las Vegas never sleeps. Cars pass on the highway in the distance, the lights are still on in the liquor store across the street, a cop car passes. It’s strange really, most of those people out there will never see what she’s seen. They live ordinary lives where they don’t have bullet holes in their chests and their girlfriends aren’t kidnapped and tortured for information. </p><p>She wonders what that life is like. </p><p>“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Bobbi asks Cassie when the Shepard pass through from Daisy’s bedroom. The dog tilts it’s head adorably and Bobbi pats the couch for her to jump up. She draws random patterns in the dogs fur, remembering doing exactly this barely two weeks ago when Daisy and Kara had first gone missing and Bobbi wasn’t allowed in the investigation yet. Kara’s staying with Vic and Izzy at their AirBnB for the night. Daisy’s asleep in bed. She did it, she brought them home. </p><p>So why does she feel so useless? </p><p>“Penny for them?” Daisy’s voice is soft as she walks blearily into the living room. Her skin is pale and clammy, her eyes shadowed and haunted. Nightmares of her own. Bobbi smiles.</p><p>“This feels like Izzy all over again.” She says simply. Daisy raises an eyebrow and crosses the living room to sit on the floor since Cassie has taken her usual spot on the couch. She smiles slightly when Cassie bats her slightly with a paw and starts rubbing her leg. She looks back up to Bobbi for elaboration. “When we all felt like it was our fault she got hurt and they left.” </p><p>“Weren’t you the one that told us all it wasn’t our fault?” </p><p>“Because it wasn’t.” </p><p>“Neither is this.” </p><p>“There’s a million ways we could have prevented it.” Daisy unconsciously traces the cut on her chest still wrapped in bandages. Bobbi looks back to the TV because it hurts too much. She has to switch channels because it changes from that cooking show to some SWAT show and the guns are a bit too much right now. She finds a kids channel and leaves it on. </p><p>“Those extend to me too.” Daisy argues. “I could have told them where the flash drive was, change some details, let Kara take some of the torture, fight back, not gone home early that day...the possibilities are endless but that’s all they are. Possibilities. It happened.” </p><p>“When did you get so wise?” Bobbi chuckles, letting Daisy play with her fingers when Cassie takes her leg back. “I’m still sorry that it happened, Dais.” </p><p>“I know.” Daisy says. She looks at Bobbi directly. “But you also got me out. You <em>saved </em>me and KP and that means a whole lot more than if you had been able to stop it happening in the first place.” </p><p>“How do you do that?” Bobbi asks and Daisy frowns. “Just let it go. Start getting over it that quickly, enough to rationalise it. How do you do that?” </p><p>Daisy laughs even though it isn’t funny in the slightest. “I don’t get over it. None of it. I can’t, it’s too much to even think about just letting go of all that anger and hatred and sadness and anguish I’ve got tucked away inside me. But when you go through traumatic shit at a young age, you learn how to live with it. To take all those nasty emotions and mine them, as May told me when she caught me pummelling a punching bag at half five in the morning. Use them for better things. Catch the bad guys, get justice for people that need it, do what I would have wanted done for me.” </p><p>“For the record, if you ever need to freak out then please feel free to.” </p><p>“Oh trust me, it’ll happen when you least expect it.” Daisy laughs again and Bobbi manages a smile at that. “Grocery stores are always fun for a breakdown.” </p><p>“The fruit section especially.” Bobbi giggles. “You know I broke down in Home Depot one time?” </p><p>“Yeah?” </p><p>“Someone dropped a can of paint and I thought it was an IED. A woman thought I was having a heart attack, called am ambulance, had to have a very awkward conversation with the paramedics that it was just a panic attack.” Bobbi shakes her head at the memory. “However I do get a very nice discount there now.” </p><p>“God you should have seen me when I first came back to the States from Belgium after Iraq. I hadn’t been properly outside in like, two years or something, so it was...interesting.” Bobbi starts braiding tiny sections of Daisy’s hair when Daisy stops playing with her fingers, mainly because Cassie decided she wanted cuddles from her owner. “It’s how I got the munchkin here.” </p><p>“I did wonder how she came to grace us all with her presence.” </p><p>“I was struggling with going outside again. Spend two years chained to a wall in a basement and it’ll really mess with your psyche, honestly.” </p><p>“Shock horror.” Bobbi deadpans. </p><p>“I know right?” Daisy laughs. “Anyway, my therapist told me that I needed something to convince me to get out every day before I could work again. So, he found a veteran dog charity and sent me their info. There was so many dogs there, honestly I nearly cried. But Cassie, then named Tally, was sort of stuck on the sidelines of all these retrievers and collies and labs. She was the only Shepard at the time and the youngest of all the dogs, only just completed her training. She was perfect.” </p><p>“That’s the cutest thing ever.” Bobbi declares. Daisy grins. </p><p>“No, you are.” </p><p>“I’m not cute, I’m scary.” Bobbi pouts, kind of negating the point. Daisy laughs and leans up to kiss away her pout. </p><p>“The scariest.” She says when they break apart. </p><p>“I shot a guy in the throat like two weeks ago!” Bobbi exclaims. “Literally, in the throat!” </p><p>“You also carried me up the stairs and drew mockingbirds around your name on my cast.” Daisy says, nodding to her arm cast which Bobbi had kinda forgotten about. </p><p>“Birds are terrifying.” </p><p>“They are actually, I’ll give you that one.” </p><p>“That’s what I thought.” Bobbi says triumphantly and Daisy rolls her eyes. </p><p>“Suns coming up.” Daisy says, pointing out the window. The sun always rose early here, and it was sometime around half five now. “We should go a walk.”</p><p>“You’re not supposed to do any strenuous activity until your ribs heal.” Bobbi reminds her and Daisy shrugs.</p><p>“I’ll be fine, got through worse.” It’s a sad truth for both of them honestly. “Cmon, I wanna go get pancakes.” </p><p>“You’re paying.” </p><p>“Deal.” </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Freedom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vic and Izzy get married and Daisy and Bobbi reflect.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hahah </p><p>remember when i said there’d be 20 chapters? </p><p>yeah, sorry besties, it’s not happening </p><p>everything was wrapped up and there was no real point in extending something i could finish in a chapter, yknow, so i’m very very sorry for this but this is the last chapter </p><p>thank you for sticking around for this little mess tho! i can still hardly believe the response for this little weird fic that came from a deep dark crevice in my brain, but i hope yall enjoyed and thanks again for reading ! </p><p>okay, on with the chapter (that is just fluff for once! go me!) (it’s also kinda short lol oops) (anyway) </p><p>thanks again besties -bex xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Present Day </strong>
</p><p>“You know, I never thought I’d get to see a wedding.” Daisy says as they pull into the parking lot. Izzy and Vic were finally getting married. They’d moved it up from next summer to April after Daisy and Kara’s kidnapping, and the reunion of what was left of their division. They all knew too well how quickly life could change, how things could end as soon as they began. Why put this off any longe than they had to? Bobbi frowns at her girlfriend. </p><p>“Why?” Daisy glances down at her scarred wrists and Bobbi regrets asking. </p><p>“Everyone I knew was missing or dead, I was in Iraq and never thought I’d get out.” Daisy says quietly, Bobbi squeezes her hand. She got her cast off two weeks ago. “But, I did. And you’re still alive, and so are they, and now they’re getting married.” </p><p>“Are you gonna be okay?” Bobbi asks, rubbing slow circles on Daisy’s hand with her thumb. Daisy fidgets with the edge of her suit jacket, unsure of how to answer. </p><p>“I should be fine, especially after the Great Park Incident of 2019.” Daisy rolls her eyes at herself. The “Great Park Incident of 2019” was a week ago when Daisy took Cassie a walk in the park and someone let off a firework. It was unexpected and way too soon after Whitehall and Malick and Daisy freaked, ran all the way home sobbing and Bobbi found her in the bathroom five hours later, almost unresponsive. </p><p>Yeah, it hadn’t been great. </p><p>“I’ll be with you every step of the way, baby.” Bobbi assures her and Daisy smiles softly and kisses Bobbi gently. It gets a bit more passionate than she originally planned and just as she’s trying to crawl over the gearstick to get in Bobbi’s lap, someone raps on the window startling them both so much they both draw their guns, which they had because they were technically on call. Izzy and Vic had only been able to book the bar they first met on a Wednesday, and Bobbi, Hunter and Daisy couldn’t exactly all take the day off, so if a case came in they had to go. </p><p>“Hey! Easy with the weapons, it’s just me.” Hunter said, hands in surrender as he opened the door. Bobbi rolled her eyes and flipped him off. Daisy blushed and put her gun away. “Come on, lovebirds, we don’t want to be late.” </p><p>“What did I ever see in that man?” Bobbi groans when Hunter walks away with Kara behind him. Daisy laughs and kisses Bobbi on the cheek. </p><p>“You just hadn’t met me yet.” Daisy grabs her clutch from the floor and throws her phone and keys in there. “Let’s go watch our friends get married.” </p><hr/><p>The ceremony is gorgeous.</p><p>Vic wears a white suit with red heels, Izzy wears an ivory dress with a sweetheart neckline and her boots because no one enjoys wearing heels, apart from Vic and that’s only because of the “fuck off I’m in charge” energy she exudes when she wears them. </p><p>Kara is their flower girl (because that makes sense) and Daisy is their ring bearer (again, because that makes sense) and Bobbi is a collective maid of honour whilst Hunter is Vic’s best man, whilst Izzy has Idaho. It’s a quiet ceremony, just the division and some family from both of the brides sides, some civilian friends that Izzy and Vic have made. It’s quiet and it’s intimate and it’s perfect. </p><p>It’s something none of them thought they would ever have. Hell, most of them thought they wouldn’t even survive this long, they’d be killed by an IED or a terrorist and a stray bullet and some disease picked up in barracks with lots of sweat and bodies and very little hygiene. </p><p>Daisy watches everything from a distance, smiles as she watched Hunter dance with Bobbi. There was a party like this years ago, when they survived their first ever mission together in Taiwan. It was warm and Trip had hooked up his speakers to his iPod, playing some god awful music. They’d picked up beer from some tiny shop in the town they’d been forced to detour through on the mission, set up a soccer game in the sand outside their barracks and just...existed. </p><p>And it was one of the first times Daisy remembers feeling like she belonged somewhere. </p><p>Like she was wanted and loved and appreciated. </p><p>Like she meant something to someone. </p><p>And that meant <em>everything </em>to her. </p><p>“Alright, Dee?” Izzy sits next to her and hands her a Coke, since they can’t drink due to still being on call and since Daisy drove. Daisy smiles and leans into the older woman. </p><p>“You’re married.” She sighs happily. Izzy chuckles and pats her head affectionately. </p><p>“I am.” </p><p>“I’m happy for you.” </p><p>“Thanks Dais.” </p><p>“You deserve happiness.” </p><p>“So do you.” Izzy nudges her and makes Daisy look at her. “I mean it, Daisy, you deserve all the happiness in the world. I’m sorry this world has been so cruel to you, but it’s not over yet. You have us and Bobbi and your team. You are safe now, and one day, this will all just be bad memories. You deserve the world, honey.” </p><p>“You had to bring feelings into it, Iz.” Daisy laughs wetly, her eyes welling up. Izzy laughs and holds her a little tighter. “I’m so happy you’re alive.” </p><p>“You too, little one.” Izzy kisses her forehead and drags her up to the dance floor, drinks forgotten on the table. Daisy giggles as Kara catches her and spins her, the song changing to something Trip would have played. Something he probably <em>did </em>play that day in Taiwan, when they were younger and less damaged and all still alive. </p><hr/><p>They dance until their feet hurt and they’ve well exhausted the amount of times a group can do the macarena. People start drifting away until it’s Vic and Izzy together and Daisy dancing with Bobbi. Hunter gets one dance out of Kara before she disappears with one of Izzy’s friends from her veteran support group. He nods toward the bar when Bobbi gives him a questioning look. </p><p>“<em>Non-alcoholic</em>, Hunter! We’re still on call!” Bobbi calls after him. </p><p>“Yes ma’am.“ He grumbles and she shoves him before taking Daisy’s hand again so they can dance again. </p><p>Bobbi grins down at Daisy when Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac starts playing. Daisy rolls her eyes. “They’re playing our song.” </p><p>“This is so not our song.” Daisy argues. </p><p>“Then what is our song?” </p><p>“Need You Now by Lady Antebellum.” Bobbi laughs and turns Daisy before pulling her close again. </p><p>“How is that our song? It’s so sad.” </p><p>“It’s the song that was playing on the radio in the enlistment centre when we first met.” A blush creeps up on Daisy’s face. “The day that everything changed.” </p><p>“You’re adorable.” Bobbi leans down to kiss her girlfriend, quietly reflecting on how lucky she was. Nine years ago, they were strangers, both embarking on a dangerous and unknown path. They had no idea if they would ever come home again when they enlisted, if they would still be the same people. And they aren’t the same people anymore, but it’s okay. </p><p>Bobbi is never going to be Barbara Ann Morse from the suburbs of Georgia again. Daisy will never be Daisy Louise Johnson from Milwaukee again. Those people died in the deserts of Taiwan, Bahrain, Kuwait, Afghanistan, Iraq...the list went on. But it’s okay because they don’t have to be those people. They can be Agent Morse and Agent Johnson to the world, and Bob and Dee to each other. </p><p>When Bobbi woke up in a hospital bed in the States after Kuwait, she thought that she’d never see Daisy ever again. Daisy dragged her through the exploded compound, who pulled Hunter with her on his fractured leg where the rubble fell on top of him, who went back for Trip’s body because she knew how important burials were in the army, how many people didn’t get them. But she could make sure Trip got one, that his family got closure. Daisy saved her life and Bobbi thought she’d left her to die.</p><p>She can’t ever make up for that. She can’t ever take back the years Daisy spent alone in Iraq, or the kidnapping two and a half months ago. She can’t erase those memories, can’t stop Daisy’s nightmares, or her own, but she can hold Daisy after them. She can kiss away her frowns and give her space to grieve on Kora’s anniversary. She can take Cassie on walks when Daisy’s on call and she can go on ice cream dates and dinner dates and watch Star Wars until they know every single word. She can learn to make pasta and argue over laundry and dishes and the amount of Red Bull Daisy consumed. She can give Daisy her fingers to play with when she got antsy and she can protect her from all the bad shit in their pasts, even if Daisy didn’t need it. </p><p>She can build a life with the woman she loves. A life where they solve crimes and beat bad guys and give people closure. A life with their best friends and team and dog, a life that belongs to them and them only. </p><p>But most of all, she can be <em>happy.</em> Because Daisy does all that and more in return and it feels like they complete each other. They’ve been to hell and told the devil to shove it up his arse and came back again. </p><p>They’ve been through the wars and somehow, miraculously, <em>not </em>died. Now they can learn to live again. </p><p>“You okay, baby?” Daisy asks, tapping Bobbi’s brow bone where it’s probably all furrowed. “You look all contemplative and existential.” </p><p>“You know what you said earlier? About not thinking you’d ever get to see a wedding?” </p><p>“That was largely the trauma talking, but yeah?” </p><p>“I never really thought I’d get to see one either.” Bobbi admits. “Before you came back, I don’t think I was really living, I was just existing. I had Hunter and the team, sure, but I thought I’d lost the one person I ever really loved. You were the first person I let see me cry or scream or hurt, the one person I could be myself around because there was no judgement with you. We were constantly being shot at and bombed and whatever, but we still managed to create a pocket of time that was ours, where we just existed together. And I thought I lost that forever.” </p><p>“You didn’t lose me, Bobbi.” Daisy whispers, her eyes shining with tears in the glow of the lights. “I love you too much to ever leave you forever. We’re forever now, Bobbi. Is that okay?” </p><p>“Of course it’s okay.” Bobbi chuckles wetly, pressing a kiss to Daisy’s forehead, holding her so close it’s practically bruising. She forgets they’re in the middle of a dance floor because for that moment, it’s just them in the world. It’s like they’re in Daisy’s living room or the park or an office at HQ, where time stops and starts and it’s only them. Bobbi and Daisy. Mockingbird and Rockstar. Just two people in love, really. </p><p>“Getting a bit sappy there, ladies.” Except it isn’t just them because Hunter exists. Bobbi glares at him and doesn’t let go of her girlfriend. He shrugs and holds up their boots which were taken off some time around the Cha Cha Slide and a very interesting performance of Crazy In Love from Kara and Izzy. “We’ve got a case.” </p><p>“They haven’t even cut the cake yet!” Daisy grumbles, but unwraps from Bobbi, (after a very passionate kiss of course) and takes her boots from Hunter. </p><p>“No rest for the wicked.” Bobbi sighs. “It was nice while it lasted.” </p><p>“Ugh, couldn’t the murderers hold off for just one night?” Daisy manages to shove her feet into her boots and goes over to say bye to Vic and Izzy. Hunter turns to Bobbi. </p><p>“Been a weird few months, hasn’t it?” </p><p>“But a good few months.” Bobbi says firmly. She smiles. “We got our family back.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>let me know your thoughts on this so far! i know it’s a bit of a mess but yknow i like it</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>